Three from Hyrule
by P. N. Blackford
Summary: COMPLETE. 300 years after Twilight Princess. The story of Link, a musician who's been sick his entire life and his friends: a hero surrounded by mystery and a princess with no confidence in her royal role. Now with art. See link in profile.
1. Kakariko Before the Rain

**Three from Hyrule**

A Legend of Zelda Fanfiction

by P.N. Blackford

Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda or any other Nintendo related characters. No profit is being made.

Thanks to my brothers Klad and Deimo, and Klad's roommate, Richard, for looking over this.

Summary: Three hundred years after the Twilight Princess broke the mirror, there resided in Hyrule three friends: a musician who's been sick all his life, a cursed hero with a mysterious past and a princess who struggles with confidence in her royal role. This is the tale of a circle of friends and their profound influences on each other.

*

**Prologue**

Years later I still vividly remember the fight, and so does Zelda. It is difficult to forget the time I was engaged in a life-or-death battle with my best friend, our swords at odds with each other against our wills.

His intense, desperate eyes will come to my mind and the muscles in my arms will recall the great effort it took to hold up my sword, let alone fend off his attacks. My throat tightens and I try to drive out the scenes from that terrible lair deep in the rock.

But I must not forget, as Zelda reminds me on occasion. We will not forget what he meant to us. We will remember his great gift that he gave for our sakes, far from home and despite his curse.

It does not seem like long ago when it began, when I was alone on the red rocks high above the village I once called home...

*

**Part I**

**Chapter 1: Kakariko Before the Rain**

(a/n: The layout of Hyrule in this story is a combination of the maps of Ocarina of Time and Twilight Princess.)

The notes from my flute lifted easily into the sky from where I sat on the cliffs above Kakariko Village. The dusky red walls glowed with the dying light from the evening sun and I played for some time longer before I heard my brother's voice, calling me from one of the cliff paths below.

"Link! Link, come! I have something good for dinner!"

I climbed down from my perch slowly, for my head throbbed with every movement I made. When I set foot on the path, Keith, so much taller and stronger than I, put his arm around my shoulder.

"Feeling better today? You don't usually venture up so high."

I nodded, smelling the aroma of fresh bread coming from Keith's shoulder bag. My stomach rumbled and I realized I had been up on the cliff all day. Tonight we would eat it alongside our landlady's delicious lentil soup.

I had not been feeling very much better, so the climb had been a long, painful struggle. But it was worth it. I enjoyed the fresh, unhindered air and the lonely cries of the eagles that circled above. I did have the occasional opportunity of playing for the guests at the Elde Inn, but playing alone, for the cliffs, the sky, just the great "bigness" of nature was exhilarating.

I tripped on a rock as we descended, wincing at the jolt in my head. I've had the headaches since I was a small child. My earliest memories are of the miserable episodes where I would be laying in a dark room with someone pressing cool clothes to my brow to relieve the pain.

In the small village where we used to live, Appleton, there was only basic knowledge of medicinal herbs, none of which worked for me. The five or six families that lived there were all farmers that grew juicy red and yellow apples. They were shipped in crates all throughout the kingdom.

My family had been one of the exceptions in our little town. They bred and raised rabbits for food and fur. I doubt if our trade made it past Ordon, but we lived well.

There is one memory of my parents. I must have been very small, because I don't really remember anything specific. I was watching them from the loft where I slept with my older brother Keith. They sat in front of a wire hutch where we kept some of the younger rabbits. Their forms were dark against the firelight and they were whispering. I called out to them and they turned their heads. My mother, her dark silhouette edged by warm light, stood and reached up to tuck me back in.

My parents both died soon after that, from some unknown sickness that bypassed my brother and I, for we had been sent away to avoid infection. Keith, ten years older, took care of me after that.

Occasionally a traveling physician would pass through our town, helping the villagers with their chronic ailments and receiving apple pies, apple tarts, apple butter and sometimes baked apples for his services. If Keith could get enough money together, he would bring the doctor to see me.

Over the years, none could help me, but when I was ten, a very young doctor suggested we move to Kakariko Village and see if the hot springs could help. My brother and I did not have much, but he sold everything and we headed for the larger village. Keith got a job as a postman and as a consequence, was away most of the day. I spent nearly all the daylight hours at the springs, my headaches seemed lessened by just being around that place. An old crusty Goron once told me that the water had good minerals as well as fey magic in it.

Music was my only gift. Because of the headaches I was weak, but music soothed me and seemed to lessen the pain. The innkeeper, Siko, was a kind man and let me keep all of the rupees I received from the guests.

Keith and I had settled well in Kakariko. We rented a little room at a boarding house run by a woman named Malta. It was small, but it had a clay oven, a strong door and several windows that let in the morning light. I was happy, but some years after we arrived I felt myself become significantly weaker. It was not gradual, but occurred over the course of three frightening days. My headaches worsened twofold and I feared my life would be cut short. I don't know how I kept such a frightening episode from Keith, but he was so busy providing for us that I did not want to add to his worry. I grew accustomed to the changes in my health, but just barely.

As the path merged with the main street I noticed there were more people on the street that usual. Keith touched the sleeve of the mayor and inquired what was happening.

"Oh, Master Keith! The Hero has come to buy some supplies," the elderly man said. "He has visited before, once last year, but he comes and leaves so suddenly it's easy to miss him."

Keith, seeing above the sea of heads, replied, "That dark-haired young man?"

The mayor nodded proudly, as if the Hero were his own son.

The Hero is a traditional title given to the one who holds the Triforce of Courage, usually a knight, by the ruler of Hyrule. Currently the ruler was Princess Zelda, a young woman that was under the guardianship of her regent aunt until she came of age. Two years ago she recognized amongst the students of the military school a bearer of a piece of Triforce and that young man became the Hero. He was a fully-fledged knight who travelled on missions throughout this and other countries for his ruler and only answered to the Crown.

The princess was only thirteen at the time, the youngest a ruler had been for choosing the Hero, who was then fifteen. Every child admired the Hero and wished to be like him and emulated his ways. Adults found relief in his presence and comfort in his humble attitude of service. He acted for the people and the goodness and kindheartedness of the Hero was legendary through the ages.

It was said that the role originated from the legends of a boy who saved Hyrule from a great evil. Although Hyrule enjoyed relative peace, there were still skirmishes on the borders and the occasional monster.

The pain in my temples persisted and I asked Keith if we were heading home soon.

"Of course," he said apologetically. I knew he was curious about the Hero, as was I, but I felt that the sooner we got to our quiet room, the better I would feel.

* * *

Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't sleep. I was experiencing a rare moment in which the headache ceased and my mind was clear as a forest pool, although an unexplainable anticipation kept buzzing at the edge of the water, keeping me from complete peace.

I rose from my bed, heading over to the window where we kept a clay pitcher full of cool drinking water. With shaking hands I began to pour myself a drink. The pitcher was heavy and I fought to steady it when a noise, perhaps a stone tumbling down the cliff side, startled me. A sensation like a whip lashing somewhere behind my eyes followed and I lost my grip on the pitcher.

The crash awoke Keith and he started, halfway jumping out of his bed.

"I'm sorry," I said, pressing my hands to my forehead. "I know this is the fourth one…"

"Curses, Link," Keith spat. "Pitchers don't come cheap! I've told you that you should just ask me…" His anger died as he watched me trying to pick up the pieces. He sighed. "Just leave it. I'll get it in the morning."

I gritted my teeth, not for the first time wishing I did not have these problems. Stumbling back into bed, I turned my back to Keith, not even daring to hope for sleep now.

"I'm sorry," came my brother's gentled voice from the other side of our dark room. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. You are fourteen now and I know you are tired of living like this. Perhaps it is my fault, letting you get lost in the ancient forest when you were little, for your troubles began after that day. So, I promise to find a cure for you."

I turned to look at him, just barely able to make out his grey eyes staring determinedly at me.

"I know, brother," I murmured. "But I'll never believe that it was your fault. Do not blame yourself."

It was not the first time we have had that conversation, but it always served to loosen build up of tension whenever it came between us. Sleep came easier after that, and as usual, I had no dreams.


	2. The Hero

**Chapter Two: The Hero**

With spring coming to fair Hyrule, we welcomed the rain as well.

Although he knew of the importance of the rain for the fall harvests, Keith did not like delivering his parcels and letters in constant downfall. He always wore his oilskin cloak, but nothing could be done for the mud that splattered under his feet as he made his rounds.

I still made it to the hot springs, bringing an umbrella, much to the amusement of the climate-indifferent Gorons and the occasional Zora.

From my favorite flute-playing perch I could see Hyrule Field, covered in the haze of rain and sometimes fog. It was calming to play while sitting dry under the umbrella as the land around me drank to its fill. Even near the top of the mountain hardy sagebrush and the white wild flowers would thrive.

It was the middle of the season when I climbed up there for the last time. My nameless song felt heavy amidst the drops of water splashing constantly around me. I stopped to listen to the rain for inspiration when a different note came up from the forest that surrounded Hyrule Field. My blood froze as I realized what a hungry, lonely cry like that came from. The only animal known to emit such a powerful, horrible noise was the wolfos, a vicious, unnatural beast of darkness. They emerged every few years and had to be hunted down before they could kill. I hoped the Hero had heard it as well.

I suddenly felt exposed and could no longer play in comfort. I hurried down to the path, slipping in the mud and loose gravel. I was out of breath and shaking when I reached the rented room, a tear in my muddy trousers but otherwise fine.

I was relieved when an hour later my brother came home unharmed. He too had heard the cry of the wolfos and said he would be carrying his crossbow on his route the next day.

That night, I had one of my worst headaches. Keith considered taking the next day off to look after me, but we both knew we couldn't afford to. Winters in Hyrule were hard and firewood and provisions were not cheap.

As I spent the day in bed, I reread the book Malta had lent me. Through the years she had collected a small library that her boarders were free to use, so long as they cared for the books and did not get greasy fingerprints on them.

It was my favorite volume of _History of Hyrule_. It went into detail about the races found in Hyrule, from the mysterious and rarely seen Kokiri to the regal and serene Zora. The book offered scant information on outlying lands and peoples, though. It diverted my mind and took me away from the waves of pain that beat against my skull. Sometimes it felt like a beast was thrashing within. I wondered if I would grow out of my affliction, yet I remembered with dread that it had been getting worse lately.

I was reading about the labyrinthine Goron mines when I noticed the sun had nearly set and Keith had not come home. Malta brought in dinner and I ate my stew and pumpkin roll alone, wondering if there was an unusually large amount of letters and packages to be delivered today.

Through the window I watched the stars struggle to appear in the murky velvet sky, edged by the rust-colored canyon walls that surrounded the village. I was tired, but I sat waiting in our dark room, unwilling to use the pricy oil to light the lantern.

Malta surprised me by bursting into the room. She normally tapped politely and softly entered, but tonight my landlady crossed the floor faster than a rabbit and seized my arm, shaking me as if I was in the deepest of slumbers.

"Oh my child, they've found your brother and he is in the worst of shape! Hurry to the inn!"

I bolted past her worried face and headed for the only lit building in town. My head was pounding and my heart told me in a panic that it was the wolfos; the dark beast had gotten my brother. The Inn was the place where the sick and injured were usually taken; chances were a traveling physician was staying in town there. The windows were glowing as I came in, pushing past the crowd of onlookers. I saw Keith just being placed on one of the long tables, his white uniform red with his blood. His crimson cloak was spread under him and a frayed corner spilled over the edge of the table like a broken wing. A man with spectacles began working over him, trying to staunch the flow from a deep gash that spanned across my brother's belly. Siko saw me and guided me to a seat by the fire before doing his best to clear out the unwanted onlookers and give the doctor some peace. I watched him work, sleep avoiding me.

More than once that long night I came up to my unconscious brother and took his hand, willing what little of my own strength to enter him. I knew nothing would happen, but at least I did not feel so useless.

In the morning I stepped onto the porch of the Inn to clear my mind. I could not believe what was happening and the air, smelling of wet earth, did little to convince me.

I was about to step back in when I saw him. The Hero was mounted on a beautiful red chestnut horse, no stocky Hylian breed, but small and slender, with a curved neck and flaring nostrils. I was surprised by the appearance of the Hero. He was a foreigner. His skin was dark, tanned by the sun, and his ears were rounded, much like an Ordonian. He wore a nut-brown long-sleeved tunic and armor made of woven strips of crimson leather instead of the blue and silver garb of Hylian knights I imagined he might wear. A green cloak was fastened to his shoulders by a gold pin bearing the royal crest, telling me who he was. Horse and rider were both covered in mud and looked very travel-worn.

As he neared he saw me immediately, halted, and met my gaze, black eyes almost covered by dark curls. He did not look much older than me, his frame was well-muscled, but not bulky. The way he looked at me is difficult to describe. Just for the briefest moment, he looked afraid.

I couldn't move, even as the Hero broke his gaze and dismounted, quickly leading his horse to the stables. My mouth was dry and I felt the same feeling that night I broke the pitcher. I felt like I should be expecting something and I could not shake it, even as I returned to Keith's side, noting his poor pallor and shallow breathing. I sat back down, unaware of time, even as a bowl of oatmeal Malta had brought for me cooled nearby, untouched.

I barely noticed Siko speaking to one of the crowd that persistently remained. As my eyes passed over them I realized the young man was the Hero, still in his splattered armor and cape. I watched them for a moment, thankful for a welcome distraction. I could not hear their words but the young man looked toward my brother and shook his head very slightly. Siko patted his shoulder and returned to sit by me. Occasionally he would come and go, offering me a hot spiced cider at some point.

The mantle clock struck one hour before noon and my brother awoke. He gasped in pain, pushing away the hands of the doctor who had rushed over. I came to his side and stood close, trying to take his hands in mine.

"It's me, brother," I assured him.

"Some monster was out there," he said, trembling. "I ran into it as I was coming home and it cut me up. I got away…I just kept running until I got to town…" He struggled to breathe and speak and I felt my heart pounding hard in my throat.

At the moment I briefly thought of the Hero, and how he should have killed the beast before it could hurt anyone, but Keith gripped my hand and I brought my attention back to him.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his body trembling. He struggled weakly for a moment, as if he was drowning and trying to keep above water, and then he was still. The doctor searched for a sign of life and shook his head.

Siko touched my shoulder to comfort me. I felt as if my life had been sucked away; a comfortable, familiar rug had been pulled out from under me. Keith was all I had.

Maybe after some time Malta led me back home, I don't remember. But at some point I found myself in my room, alone, and I wept ceaselessly, my very soul and heart broken.

* * *

I took the next day to take care of Keith. Malta helped me greatly as far as the burial was concerned. She herself had buried two young sons and her husband long ago. While she worked I was almost in a numb stupor, holding back grief and clinging to rationality. I was alone now. I would have to find some way to take care of myself.

More people came to my brother's burial that evening than I could have imagined. It seemed like the entire village wished to say goodbye to their letter carrier. The women wore black shawls, grasping long white candles, and the men donned dark colored scarves and cloaks. Children set white and pink wild flowers before the small headstone on the freshly turned earth. One of our village elders spoke about Keith. Everyone was very kind, but I longed for it all to be over.

When the sun was just setting and any words that could be said were said, the townspeople dispersed slowly. I went back to our rented room and collapsed onto my bed, the first sounds of rain calling me to sleep.


	3. Drawing Out the Dark

**Chapter Three: Drawing Out the Dark**

I had little peace to grieve. My attacks came one after the other. At first I could stand them as long as I stayed in my darkened room, my meals brought in by Malta. Everyone thought I was mourning and except for the occasional sympathy visit, I was left alone.

By the third day it was unbearable. I thought I was dying. Malta insisted I see the doctor. I struggled to sit up as he examined me, my eyes watering in pain. As I predicted, he could do very little for me except prescribe something to make me sleep. I was at least grateful for this and even though it was the middle of the day I desperately downed half the potion and managed to sleep fitfully until nightfall.

I thought the rain woke me, my bleary eyes opened and my stuffed up ears just barely heard the water drops pounding on the tin roof. I saw Malta in the dim light of her lamp. I sat up and a searing stab of pain followed; I winced. The woman clucked in sympathy.

"Child, I've brought someone who can help," she said in a whisper. She sounded so sure I allowed a shred of hope to lighten my heart. I nodded frantically, unable to hold back a sob of agony. She moved back to the door to let in a hooded figure, rain dripping from his cloak. The hood was pushed back to reveal the face of the Hero and my heart fell. I did not believe he could do anything for me and I already felt despair as well as a little hatred because of Keith's preventable death. He took Malta's lamp and set it on the little bedside table, sitting down on a stool across from where I sat on my bed.

"My name is Sangrel," he said softly, withdrawing from his dripping cloak a small ebony case. "I was told you are very ill, and have been so for some time." He nodded to Malta and she left, closing the door behind her.

I said nothing, but watched as he opened the case to reveal a round piece of glass, a little smaller than my palm, amber in color and attached to a long gold chain. The Hero took it out of its velvet wrappings and held it with his gloved fingers by the chain, the glass turning slowly.

"This lens of truth is used by my family to see that which hides from us," he explained. "I will use it to direct light into your eyes to see if anything is there."

"Do you mean," I gasped, "there's something in my head?"

"It's my guess," he answered, "if nothing else has helped, it is not a sickness. There is some evil residing within you, hindering your every move. Are you ready?"

I watched the amber lens on its chain, seeing Sangrel's eye through it, polished smooth so it impossibly picked up the lamplight like a mirror. It got brighter and brighter, the light blinding me. I couldn't see for a moment as the amber cast its brightness seemingly into my mind and I heard an angry cry ring in my ears. Sangrel took the light away and the pain left as well. I sighed, holding my head.

"Thank you," I said, my feelings of dislike melting.

"It is not gone," Sangrel warned. "I could only let it know I am aware of its presence. For now it hides and hopes we think it gone."

"What is it?"

"A type of poe, called a shadow poe. It temporarily takes up residence in a human mind and when its host is weakened by sickness or grief or fear, it feeds on the available energy to grow in strength. But from what I've seen, it has stayed for some reason. How long have you had these same headaches?"

"Since I was four years old, I believe."

The Hero seemed perplexed, a grim look fastening itself to his features.

"This poe does not normally stay that long. Three days at most. It kills its victim."

I felt nauseous and weak after hearing that. The Hero waited patiently while I collected myself.

"Why am I still alive? And how do I get it out?"

"The answers to both your questions lay in Hyrule Castle Town," he said. "I can take you there."

I thought of the meager savings my brother had in the Kakariko bank and my prospects if I stayed here. Keith had always spoken of the opportunities that could be found at the central city of Hyrule and I felt he would want me to go there.

* * *

Two days later, early in the morning, I stumbled outside, all my possessions and money packed easily into a rough cloth sack. Sangrel and his horse were already waiting. Alongside them stood Malta as well as Siko holding the reins of a fat brown horse I recognized as the one who did nothing but eat grass in his pasture all day.

"He's yours now," said Siko, handing me the reins. "All those years of beautiful music and I never gave you a single green rupee. He's a good, sound animal, he just needs someone to use him."

I thanked him, warily touching the animal's soft mane and climbing clumsily onto the horse's back. "I have not ridden much," I admitted.

"This is good way to learn," the Hero said smiling and turning his horse to exit the village. I waved goodbye to Siko and Malta as the horse, called Kuma, lazily rocked into motion, following the horse of the Hero.

It normally takes a half day to travel from Kakariko to what is called the center of Hyrule. I held us back, mostly due to the few times I fell off and had my horse run away from me, or the frequent rest stops I required. After a lifetime of limited activity I was still weak and had poor balance. We arrived very late in the night. Sangrel saw that I was exhausted and got rooms for us at the Blue Cucoo, easily found by the swinging wooden sign with the freshly painted figure of a bird on it.

* * *

It was not until morning that I had an opportunity to look at my surroundings. It was a very fine inn; I could easily see minor nobles staying here. The roof didn't leak, the wallpaper was tasteful and the food was savory.

The Hero was treated with respectful courtesy, but obviously to his pleasure, no one fawned over him nor bothered him about his fame.

Over our mugs of spiced cider he told me we would be seeing the Princess Zelda. I fought to keep myself from spitting out my drink with excitement. Unfortunately that tinge of surprise was followed by nervousness. I knew nothing of palace etiquette, not to mention I had no good clothes.

"The Princess is not someone who only sees a person's manners," Sangrel assured me. "Besides, I will buy you a new tunic, the one you currently have is gathering holes."

"I am immensely grateful," I said, "but I feel I am taking advantage…"

The Hero interrupted me.

"I have too much money, more than I know what to do with. You have no idea the relief you bring me when I can spend a little of it on someone other than myself."

I couldn't help but return his smile.

I assumed we would take care of the poe after he paid his visit to the princess, so I set the matter in the back of my mind. I was already feeling better than I had in years. I let the sights and smells of the market take over. I saw fruits and vegetables I didn't know existed and smelled delicate exotic flowers. I was soon wearing a brand new gray tunic and eating sliced roasted rosemary herb potato off a skewer.

"Zelda will be holding audience with the public this time of the day," he said a little before noon. "Perhaps we can take a little time from her upcoming lunch break."

His last words struck me as a little informal, but I was eager to see the palace and its treasures and followed his quick footsteps.

The princess sat in a small room, her seat on a raised dais, surrounded by guards and councilors. A young woman was standing before her, holding a collection of lace in her arms. The princess was listening attentively to the woman, her rounded face resting on a tanned hand.

I saw the Princess wore a riding outfit, and had dust on her black boots. A jeweled circlet rested atop her reddish gold hair, but other than that, she did not quite look like the image of a princess I had in my mind. She was not stunningly beautiful, as I had been told. But she was approachable, had kind brown eyes and nevertheless pretty in appearance. She drew people to her with her friendliness.

The woman with the lace bowed and exited the room. The Hero quickly made his way to her side, whispering in her ear. The princess looked at me and I reddened, managing an awkward bow. She smiled and stood, making her way to the back door.

"Her Royal Highness is calling a recess," Sangrel announced. He bid me follow as he walked out with the princess.

We walked some ways, up and down stairs and hallways, through magnificently decorated sitting rooms and portrait galleries.

Finally we stopped in a fairly large room, full of light from the high windows but otherwise empty.

"My princess," Sangrel began, "This is Link of Kakariko Village. Link, I wrote to Zelda about you and have brought you to her to be cured. She is young, but the best in Hyrule as far as healing magic is concerned."

I was stunned at first, but my curiosity overcame me. I bowed more deeply and thanked the princess for her willingness to help me. To my astonishment she took my hand and smiled at me.

"I am pleased to meet you, Link. Call me Zelda, and please tell me of your trouble."

I repeated what I had told Sangrel, and Sangrel told her what he had seen. The princess agreed with the Hero's assessment.

"Now the hard part will be extracting it," she mused, although unable to keep the nervousness from her voice. She looked briefly at Sangrel, who smiled encouragingly. "We don't know how strong it is, so when I draw it out, you must be prepared, Sangrel."

The Hero nodded, unfastening his cloak and drawing his sword. I knew it immediately as the Master Sword, a magnificent weapon, the hilt a startling royal blue-violet set with gold and the blade shining like a mirror. I felt some small relish at my knowledge of Hylian legends. Reading Malta's books had come in handy.

Zelda pushed her white sleeves up to her elbows and suggested I sit down. She lowered herself to the cool tile floor across from me as Sangrel prowled slowly around us.

Cool fingers touched my temples and the princess looked into my eyes, and then past them. I felt nothing, other than a light feathery touch on the edge of my mind. In the quiet moments that followed I fought to keep back my own nervousness. Our surroundings slowly changed, the smooth stone floor and walls fading, replaced by a forest clearing. The princess and I looked about us, a heavy mist rolling in and a heavy blanket of stars above us. Sangrel continued circle us, disappearing in and out of our sight amongst the trees, oblivious to what we saw. I realized we were in my memories, perhaps at the moment I had encountered the poe. An owl cried out, followed by a few other night noises before a wretched scream broke the silence. My worst headache followed and I struggled to keep from fainting from the stabbing pain that reverberated against my skull. Black smoke rolled quickly out of every pore on my skin. It streamed out of my nose and mouth and I nearly retched at the rotten odor that followed.

The ebony mist collected and formed itself into the shape of a hovering hooded body, twice the height of a man, decaying yet immaterial, ragged and vaporous, with glowing eyes and clawed fingers grasping a rusty sickle and a fiery lantern spilling with ghostly flame. It turned to me and I felt weak. I struggled to stand, my sweaty palms sliding on the floor that I could still feel but not see. Sangrel quickly stepped between us, his shining sword ducking into the dark cloudy form. The shadow poe cried out as the metal seemed to eat its dark body and retreated a ways, swinging its lantern threateningly. The unearthly flame spiraled out, just barely missing the Hero's sleeve with its black tongue.

Sangrel did not back down, he struck out at the creature, the poe repelled by the pure material that the sword was crafted from. I was stunned by the Hero's fighting ability. He was agile and precise, deadly and frightening. He moved confidently, as if he had fought such a creature time and again. He struck out with his hand and a red flame came forth from it. The poe shrank from the Hero's magic before it was run through by the sword, dissolving into ghastly fire, it's battered lantern shattering on the floor.

I stood, dizzy and excited by the battle I had just witnessed. The princess dusted her clothes. The forest faded quickly, leaving the three of us alone in the empty room.

"You should be feeling much better after this," she said. She seemed suddenly distracted and turned away from me as Sangrel came back to us, smelling slightly singed.

The Hero spared a worried glace at the princess.

"Your Highness," he said gently. "Are you weary from drawing the monster out? Shall I ask your secretary to cancel your appointments?"

The princess nodded. As she was leaving I thanked her again with all my heart. She gave me a sad smile.

"I was only the least I could do."


	4. A New Life

**Chapter Four: A New Life**

Princess Zelda was correct, days later I was feeling much better. I realized I had been living nearly my entire life under an oppressive cloud. I could finally breathe and run and jump like I dreamed I should.

After I lost the poe, I stayed on in Hyrule Castle Town. It was the princess that suggested I give music lessons to the children of the nobles. I was soon earning enough to support myself and some left over to save or spend.

I rented a room in a fine little boarding house called the Gold Beetle. I took my meals at the café down the street and I always had a bowl of fresh market fruit on my table by the diamond paned window.

It did not take long for Sangrel to find me after I had settled in. I made us some tea while he spoke to me.

"I was wondering if you would like to try learning some swordsmanship," he said. "I can teach you, along with riding and archery."

I told him I would like that very much, but I wondered what his motive was.

"I'll never have a chance to repay you this way."

Sangrel smiled, stirring copious amounts of honey into his drink. "We are friends, it is only natural that I would want you to try some of the activities that I find rewarding. Besides, the more time you spend with me the better chance you will have of repaying me."

And so it was that in between my music lessons and his missions that late spring and summer, Sangrel taught me the arts of combat. At first they seemed like a superfluous set of skills in which I would never use, let alone get the hang of, but as the days piled on top of each other followed by rapid progress, I grew to like it very much. Sometimes we would see Zelda, riding her horse on one of the rich green fields outside the castle while we practiced, and she would join us for a brief moment. Sangrel explained to me that despite not being the official ruler yet, she was learning to perform most of the duties already, while her aunt seemed to fill her days with idle parties and reading novels.

Zelda's aunt, Lady Teris, was known to be lazy, but she was also very clever and had kept the kingdom of Hyrule in fine working order ever since Zelda's parents had died from the same disease mine had. Zelda had been occupied with school soon after their deaths, even studying with royal children in neighboring countries.

I could see that she was overwhelmed sometimes, although from what I observed, she rarely made bad decisions, she was simply hesitant to make any at all. The brief moments she spent with Sangrel and I seemed to calm her and bolster her confidence.

I came to know Sangrel's fellow knights as well that hot summer. They all highly respected him and helped to teach me the finer points of combat. At first they only consented to this because of my connection to the Hero, but soon I was treated like I was one of them, enjoying the town on our days off, hunting in the forest or swimming in Lake Hylia. It did not take me long, however, to notice the distance that seemed to be between Sangrel and the others. He was not truly a part of the tight-knit group of Hylian knights. They were a close band of brothers and the Hero seemed the aloof, much older brother. He never went swimming with us, and he was never seen relaxing or out of his light armor.

When I spoke casually about my observations to two of the knights I was closest to, their responses surprised me.

"He wasn't always like this," Sir Aquila commented. "While we went to school together Sangrel was indistinguishable from the rest of us. He used to laugh a lot more too."

Aquila was one of the youngest knights, a year older than me and his hair cut close to his scalp as was customary for new recruits. He was a very light-hearted young man and he was part of our circle of sword-wielding friends.

"We all knew it would be different when he took on the role of Hero," explained Sir Tristan, rubbing his sand-colored hair. "It's a serious job and he seemed to grow up a lot faster than the rest of us did."

Tristan was one of the more remarkable knights that I called friend. Head of the order of Hylian Knights and not quite thirty, He was talented in anything he tried his hand at as well as exceedingly kind and just.

It was very common for a knight to have an occupation on the side, such as leatherworking, light farming or metal smithing. Tristan was an orphan who was raised by his grandfather. He happened to be one of the best winemakers in Hyrule and was preparing Tristan to take over his estate some day.

The vineyards were located in a temperate part of Hyrule and made a pleasant retreat for the four of us. Even Sangrel visibly unwound for brief periods of time. There were green pathways between the rows of vines laden with dark grapes where we trotted our horses during the day and a fire pit in the courtyard where we spent the evenings listening to Tristan's grandfather tell stories. Sir Urbanus was a knight himself, now retired and spending all his time raising his grapes. He remembered when there were more monsters about and even fought a dragon on Death Mountain with the previous Hero. He did not know what to make of Sangrel, perhaps the memories of the Hero from his own time mixed painfully together with that of the new, but he treated us all like favored sons.

The previous Hero, Timos, had died as a young man some fifty years before. He was very beloved by the Hyrulian people and the long lines of mourners that watched his body proceed to the royal tombs were legendary.

The next few weeks were happy ones for me. I did miss Keith still, and often visited his grave to talk to him, but he represented what I considered my old life, and Sangrel and the Princess were part of the new one.

* * *

Towards the end of summer my fifteenth birthday came. Sangrel and Zelda presented me with a sword from Ordon. Ordonian steel weapons were the best you could get just about anywhere. They were of simple make but they stayed sharper longer and fathers usually passed the same sword down to their sons for generations within the same family. They insisted I take it of course, because it would only help me get better and I could assist Sangrel all the better when he fought the occasional monster.

As we entered the months of the fall season, Sangrel would often move our practice sessions indoors to avoid the wind and rain. We enjoyed sparring in the older parts of the castle, leaping off staircases and practicing footwork around pillars. One evening, as our practice ran later than usual, the princess invited us to her dinner table.

Zelda and Sangrel spoke briefly about trouble coming from a neighboring kingdom called Cyril, where Sangrel was from. The princess mentioned some sleepless nights due to increasing hostilities at the borders toward Hylian travelers. I was not paying much attention; I had no interest in political affairs and the starter soup was remarkably good.

As we started our main course of roast pheasant we were startled by the garbled cry of a wolfos, not far away.

Zelda shook her head. "They have an unnatural cry, it sounds so sad."

"I wonder if they are natural or products of dark magic," Sangrel mused.

I felt a mean finger prick my heart. I said, "What does it matter? They should be killed before more people are attacked by them, like my brother."

The princess was startled. "Your brother?"

"Yes," I said, "he was fatally wounded by one as he was returning home late one night." It did not take long for me to regret my words. Both my companions had stopped eating. The princess looked furious, her eyes dark and shining. Sangrel was pale and quiet for a moment before he excused himself.

The young royal did not look at me, instead staring at our half-eaten food.

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I had no idea." Still grasping her napkin she left as Sangrel had. I waited a measure before I followed her, but as I turned a corner I realized I had already lost her. My face burning, I entered the inner courtyard gardens for the cool air. I knelt by the edge of the fairy fountain, the cold white marble hard under my knees.

Unknowingly, however, I had found the princess and the Hero.

"Sangrel, how could you let this happen?" I heard the grief-stricken voice of the princess behind a copse of small shrub trees. I was too unnerved to attempt to leave and kept my position by the bubbling water.

"I am only one man," Sangrel answered, his words strained. "I work tirelessly to rid your land of the beasts. Hundreds have fallen to me without a word of praise from you. I'm not even…"

"I'm forever grateful for your sacrifices," she answered tersely. "Perhaps I have taken your work for granted, I thought you incapable of missing anything. You promised me, Sangrel. You told me you would protect, instead of…Oh, I worry about it so…"

"I've told you, Zelda," Sangrel responded, his voice softening. "I'm not affected by it. I'll keep my word and you will keep me safe."

"I know, forgive me for my rash words and negligence of you deeds."

There was silence and I could only imagine what their expressions were.

"Look at it as a mixed blessing, Princess," he said quietly. "If the elder brother had not been attacked the Wolfos, I would not have been summoned to the town to exterminate it. Link would have died without my help, I'm sure of it, for I was not sure of what he had the first time I met him. And then when the Shadow Poe was freed from his body, who knows what it would have done to the village. He was a bomb with a shortening fuse. How long we have searched for him! It was the foul presence of that poe that kept us from seeing him."

"I know, but that price was high, and now I do not know what to do."

"The Bearer of Wisdom is at a loss?"

"Do not mock me Hero," said the princess tiredly. "You and I both know how it works."

"All too well."

They moved beyond my hearing and I finally allowed myself to relax. I no longer blamed Sangrel for Keith's death, but I now bore a new guilt, the knowledge that I was finally cured because my brother had been attacked and killed.

* * *

(a/n: Thank you for reading. Your review is appreciated!)


	5. The Hunt and the Dream

**Chapter Five: The Hunt and the Dream**

I did not see Sangrel for a few days after that. The princess eventually spoke to me as I visited her at the palace, worried at the Hero's absence. She asked nothing of me verbally, but I knew what she wanted.

"If you will allow me, your Highness," I began. "I would like to go after him myself. No doubt he is only working some problems out and we may meet on the road."

The princess thanked me and I left to prepare. I was immediately excited to be doing something for Zelda. I hoped for truth in my speculation, but as I set out on my horse Kuma, sword at my side, I knew I could be in for some directionless wandering.

By the end of the day I was skirting the Kokiri Woods working only on my intuition when I noticed a green thread caught on a thorn. I was stunned that I noticed something so small. Dismounting and tightly wrapping myself in my wool cloak to ward the wind, I wandered deeper into the woods, leading my reluctant horse by the reins. I was rewarded with more clues, broken branches and the edge of a familiar footprint; Sangrel wore woven sandals when the weather permitted. I became wary as I noticed larger animal prints alongside those of my friend. They were fresh and I had no way of knowing who followed who.

The sun struggled to get through the dense roof of leaves above me. I saw the day was ending. I was considering going back to rest in a safe spot when a clearing opened up before us. Kuma balked, his head raised in fear, his dark ears pricked straight up. I immediately saw why: a great wolfos, nearly as big as a horse, lay dead in the setting sun. The dusky light played softly on its dirty matted grey coat. The beast's jaws were open, a bloody tongue rolled out on the ground. I tied Kuma and went closer, my sword drawn. In the shadow of the wolfos, lying motionless against its bloody side I saw the Hero. I immediately went to touch his shoulder, fearing him dead.

I let out a pent up breath as Sangrel stirred. He held up a gloved hand, warding me off.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He looked as if he had not slept for some time. A shadow of a beard was beginning on his face.

"I'm just glad to see you unharmed," I said. I knew this was not the wolfos that had killed Keith; that one had been hunted down long ago. But it was a little satisfying to know that this one would cause no trouble.

Sangrel was smiling as he hauled himself to his feet. He dislodged his sword from the black ribs and cleaned it meticulously.

"You didn't have to…I should not have said what I did. Forgive me for my thoughtless words."

Sangrel nodded, but his eyes darkened for a moment as he regarded me. I could barely see his face in the dim light.

"Are you happy, Link?"

"What? Well, I suppose I am. I had another dream last night. I don't know if I'll ever get used to them."

Sangrel turned away. "Good dreams?"

I said yes and Sangrel began to pace around the corpse, not really seeing it. His shell of reserve and poise began to slip away from him. He looked worried.

"I've been having nightmares regularly for a month now," he admitted. "I can't remember the last time I had a pleasant dream."

"What about?" I asked as he passed me.

"Something is chasing me. Some terrible thing hunts me to the western edge of the world until I am run to the ground and I awake exhausted." I had never seen him so shaken. I did not know what words of comfort to offer him.

We made our way out of the woods. Few words passed between us and I was at a loss as to what Sangrel was thinking.

* * *

Although I continued with the music lessons, they were no longer my focus. As I became stronger I was determined to catch up on what I had been missing under the curse of the poe. I even dared to catch up to and surpass Sangrel. I could run and fight and traverse the whole of Hyrule with my friend on his patrols, but I could not best him in combat.

On the first day of winter I was invited to Zelda's birthday party. I dreaded dressing formally and standing in a stuffy overcrowded room of chattering nobles but Sangrel pressed me to come.

"I have to go," he stated. "Don't let me suffer alone."

It was not too terrible. I stayed with the knights who clustered together, quietly eating their slivers of cake and talking about horses and swords. As the afternoon wound down Sangrel caught my arm and pulled me out of the room. We met with Zelda in the courtyard. She had changed out of her gown, trading the silver dress for a well-worn red riding outfit. She held the reins of her gray mare, a wicker basket tied to the saddle.

"My aunt can handle the rest of the party," she explained as a groom brought out Kuma and Epona. "Please join me for a picnic supper."

I was happy to oblige. It was an unusually warm day and Sangrel and I left our fine jackets behind and rode out, following the princess. We cantered at a steady pace to Hyrule field, eventually stopping at the ruins of the small stone amphitheater that had been built onto the slope of a hill.

Zelda unpacked the picnic basket after we had seen to the needs of the horses. A small feast of cold meat pies, pears, sweet rolls with strawberry jam and red wine were divided between us. As a special treat, Zelda had also brought raw honeycomb wrapped in wax paper. After the warm, dull buzz of the party indoors, the fresh air and twitter of the winter songbirds was more than refreshing. We spoke as old friends do, rich conversation dotted with comfortable silence while we ate.

I was honored to be included with the Hero and princess. Their critical roles and high statuses melted away and I felt comfortable with them. The princess would forget her duties and Sangrel would smile and laugh as we sat on the stone steps enjoying the play of color on the surrounding hills as the sun slowly sank into evening.

The affliction of the poe had been pushed far away and I looked forward to whatever came next.


	6. Turning West

**Chapter Six: Turning West**

The year turned over, and soon I was facing the opening of spring, when Hyrule was at its wettest. The anniversary of my brother's death came.

As I entered the quiet graveyard I nodded to the shuffling grave keeper and walked up the hill to my brother's marker. A little moss had grown at the base of the stone but I did not remove it, it looked so at home with the other markers there. Already in my mind it settled that he was truly gone.

I looked about, the stone walls of the cemetery blending into the impassible flanks of the mountain. I wondered what lay beyond the natural borders that made up this beautiful country, but I thought it would be some time before I would get a chance to explore.

My life was fulfilling and I was contented until one event darkened those days. On a rainy spring evening, as the castle staff was winding down for the day a battered falcon flew into the hall where we were all gathered and fell dead at Sangrel's feet. My friend paled, taking the bird in his hand and untying the capsule tied to its back.

"It is for you, princess," he said mechanically, handing Princess Zelda the scroll he retrieved. I did not fail to notice the slight shake in his hand. The princess was far better at masking her reaction as she gazed at the seal the message bore. With a diplomatic coolness she excused herself.

It was twenty minutes before Sangrel and I were both summoned to her quarters.

"Gentlemen," the princess began, "the king of our neighbor country Cyril is withdrawing his allegiance and trade agreements with us. He gives no reason. It seems I must send my most able men to convince him it is best we stand together, even in peaceful times. Those men would be you two."

Sangrel was pensive for a moment. "What does your aunt say?"

Zelda smiled. "Sangrel, you know as I she is only concerned with her afternoon tea and needlework. Please inform Sir Tristan to halt any outgoing Hylian merchants. There is no point in anyone traveling to Cyril for a while."

Sangrel bowed. "As you command. We leave tomorrow."

* * *

I slept in one of the many guest rooms in the castle that night. Sangrel had warned me that he would wake me early but I could hardly sleep for the excitement of travel. I tried to visualize what wonders I had only read about in Malta's books but there was so little information on the country of Cyril. I knew it was surrounded by mountains and hills, cradling lush plains and dry deserts alike and dotted with mines rich in precious metals and stones. It lay to the northwest of Hyrule, beyond the old Gerudo territories. It was where Sangrel was from and since he had told me nothing of his native land I eventually fell asleep with my wild imaginings translating into vivid dreams.

The next morning my friend only had to touch my shoulder to wake me.

"Get ready," he said, already fully dressed. "I will return in a few moments. I must speak with the princess."

I quickly washed and slipped into clothes I had chosen for travel: a comfortable padded shirt and the lightest chain mail I could find topped by a dark green tunic over brown leggings and sturdy, well-made boots. I looked the contents of my bag and waited for Sangrel.

As the minutes slipped by I busied myself with rechecking my bag and tidying up the room. I made sure I had my flute, thinking it would pass the time whenever we stopped to rest.

I looked out of the narrow window and sighed heavily. I was impatient for my adventure and eventually that impatience turned to movement. I headed toward the apartments of the princess, taking a narrow servants passage I was familiar with.

At one of the many splits in the narrow tunnel I thought I heard Sangrel's voice farther down towards the left. As I followed the sound of his muffled words I noticed the passage floor was uneven and covered with dust. It had not been used much, if at all in past years. At the end was a heavy curtain, completely covering the opening of the passage, hiding it from the room beyond. From a tiny gap in the curtain I could see out fairly clearly. I did not recognize this part of the castle. The grimy windows were made of a rose-colored leaded glass, giving the fair-sized space a dusky glow. Marble pillars carved to look like thin gushers of frothy water went down the room in two rows. I did see Sangrel, but I also saw Zelda. My face colored with embarrassment. Sangrel held the princess tenderly in his arms, and her hands were draped on his shoulders. Something told me to go back, but my heart, twisted with emotions, wouldn't let me.

They were talking to each other and I held my breath so I could hear them.

"I can't stay any longer," Sangrel said gently, repositioning a strand of her bright hair.

"What was I thinking," said the princess, her voice faltering with the familiar uncertainty. "Had I forgotten your position in Cyril? What has become of my judgment?"

"I trust your judgment," he said, taking her hands in his and kissing her jeweled fingers. "You are a wise woman and you could not have chosen better. I will be safe. Remember I have Link with me, and he is strong, despite the disadvantage."

My ears caught the last part more than anything else. I wondered if he meant my possession of the poe for all those years.

"I have tarried too long," Sangrel sighed, tipping her head with his finger. "Just one more kiss?"

"Certainly," I barely heard the princess say for I had turned away and silently headed the way I had come, thankful for the soft dust beneath my boots.

Sangrel found me in the stables, saddling our horses. He apologized casually for his lateness and I bit back a caustic retort. He took my silence as acceptance and he hurried us to make up for lost time. Without stopping we waved goodbye to Tristan and Aquila who stood watch by the main castle gate.

My bitterness from that day wore away the farther we went from the town, and eventually, from Hyrule.

Sangrel expertly led us through the windy, stinging Gerudo desert in two days, following some invisible path with his amber glass. We camped inside an old round building, safe from the biting elements. It was rumored that small bands of the Gerudo still roamed in the desert, despite their confirmed extinction. During the night I thought I heard the singsong calls of women mixed in with the wind, but I cannot say I am sure.

The next day a great chasm separated us and the land of Cyril. I hesitantly peered over the edge and saw a tiny roaring river far below. The only way across for many miles in any direction was an ancient stone bridge.

"This route is not often used anymore," Sangrel explained. "The way is too treacherous for ordinary travelers and traders. They insist the desert is cursed." He grinned impishly, twirling the glass in his fingers before safely tucking it away.

We crossed quickly and travelled a few more miles before night shadowed us. We had arrived at a curious crumbling black granite statue of a ram with double curling horns and a fierce gaze.

"The ram is the symbolic animal of my country," my friend explained, unsaddling his horse. "There is a statue like this placed at each corner of Cyril. We happen to be at the eastern corner."

I asked him about the foreign words chiseled on the pedestal upon which the animal stood.

"It says, 'The great king has placed his reach here.' A powerful ruler indeed was the second king of Cyril, King Memphis."

The horses were left to graze on the tough plants that managed to grow between the desert and the plains. We set up camp at the feet of the ram, our cook-fire smoke tickling its chin.

I slept soundly for most of the night, waking up some hours before morning. Sangrel was awake as well, sitting by one of the front hooves of the ancient statue, his sword resting across his knees.

"Can't sleep?" I asked, settling by the other hoof. A cool wind rose up from the plains, upsetting our dying fire and Sangrel tossed on branches of dried brush.

"Whenever I close my eyes the nightmare is there," he admitted, staring ahead, towards Hyrule. "Now I am chased beyond my limits in them. I am only stopped by a silver web that tangles me in its strings. Then a great hand comes down to pull on them and I am moved about against my will. If I don't sleep it doesn't bother me much."

I asked him what he meant.

"I can go for some time without sleeping," he explained. "It is not easy to do, but having a piece of Triforce helps."

"Sounds handy," I commented. "Your dream sounds to be getting worse. Have you talked to anyone else about it?"

"I have mentioned it to Zelda, but she doesn't know how bad it is. She has enough to worry her at the moment."

That was true enough. We did not speak much after that. I took my flute out and played to the dark night, sometimes a faraway coyote joining in with his warbling cries.


	7. Tea in the Southern Palace

**Chapter Seven: Tea in the Southern Palace**

"We've made better progress than the merchants would," Sangrel explained as we rode farther into Cyril the next afternoon, "but we still have to go through the mountains. Which means we must pass through the fortress gate."

As we got closer to the cinnamon-colored peaks I noticed other travelers camped out in small groups. The encampments became denser as we neared the mouth of the mountain passage. I realized they were all traders and travelers who had been barred from entering ever since the decree had been issued from the Cyrilian king. The people, Hylians, Ordonians, and even a few Gorons expressed a palpable degree of discontent as they sat in front of their wagons and tents.

"When are they going to let us pass?" Someone cried out irritably.

"How could he do this...," Sangrel growled quietly to himself.

We rode past the downcast faces which took an interest in us as we passed. Up ahead I saw, wedged between the sheer sloping sides of two mountains, a heavy wooden gate with a fort built around it. White banners displaying the black ram snapped crisply in the breath of whistling mountain wind. I noted half a dozen guards before the gate and could only guess how many more resided within.

"How will we get in where the others have failed?"

"We will," my friend assured me, not faltering in his pace. I stayed a little behind him, still gazing up at the sides of the enclosing mountains.

He approached the nearest guard, whom I guessed to be the captain and after he had dismounted, handed the tall bearded man a scroll stamped with Zelda's personal seal. "We are here on a diplomatic mission from the Princess Zelda of Hyrule, please permit us to enter for we have urgent business with your king."

The guard did not even look at the scroll. He tossed it into the dust and casually crumpled it under his heel.

"No travelers permitted," he sighed, words he had obviously said many times over.

Dismayed, I looked over the walls, wondering if these past five days of travel had been a waste.

To his credit, Sangrel did not lose his composure. If anything he stood taller. The onlookers from the encampments looked on, interested in this one young man with the red horse.

"You will allow me and my companion to enter," he said calmly. The guardsmen shifted their grips on their pikes, but the captain pointed a bored gaze past the young man.

"We make few exceptions and I doubt—" The man paused, staring at a brilliant gold rams-head pendant set with garnets that now swung from Sangrel's grip on a thick silver chain. My friend closed the fingers of his free hand around the neck of the captain's tunic and drew the stunned man a little closer to him. He quietly whispered something to the startled man, who straightened immediately and gestured quickly to his men whom hurriedly began pushing the gate open. Sangrel tucked his pendant back into his tunic and climbed back on Epona as I joined him in walking through the gate. Half-hearted protests could be heard from the weary onlookers even as the doors groaned shut behind us in a puff of dust.

Sangrel looked down at Epona's mane, slight disbelief crossing his features.

He said to me, "ask me no questions until we are out of the pass. Will you do this?" he added hastily.

I nodded, persuading my horse into motion behind my friend. It was a long day's ride, made even longer by our shared silence. Questions rose and died within me. I reasoned that Sangrel must be a noble. His family could afford to send him to a distant land to be trained as a knight, after all.

Finally I asked, "are there thieves here?"

"No," responded Sangrel, "only ears."

The rest of the day was filled with the sound of the horses' feet striking the wide path and echoing up the steep mountainsides.

By nightfall we were out of the passage and found ourselves in a small valley with lush green grass at our feet. I heard the welcome sounds of a brook not far off. The tired horses were eager to feed so we saw to their needs first.

Sangrel went about setting up our meager camp with a weariness I had never seen in him. After we sat down across from our fire Sangrel produced a skin of wine I did not know he had.

We passed it back and forth, the sips of refreshing drink loosening our tongues.

"Now you may ask," Sangrel finally said.

"Why did the captain of the guard let us pass? You must be some noble of high birth."

"Indeed," Sangred sighed. He took the pendant from his neck and handed it to me. "I am a prince of Cyril. Sangrel Aurea, fourth son of King Domus III."

I was silent for a moment, desperately wondering if I should pay him homage in some way before quickly deciding against it. I had to remember him as my friend, to treat him differently now would be against his wishes. My anger at his closeness to Zelda dissolved all the more. As a prince he had every right to court a princess.

"What is a Cyrilian prince doing in Hyrule?"

Sangrel's eyes darkened very perceptibly before he managed to smile slightly. "When I was thirteen, my mother the Queen sent me there when she saw my attentions needed…diverting. I was a very spoiled and bored child; I am afraid I caused her much grief. She knew disciplined training would do me good, especially in a place where no one knew I was a prince. She even forbade me from saying so. I soon saw the wrongness of my arrogant ways and I told myself that none should know of my royal birth unless absolutely necessary."

"Zelda knows," I said.

Sangrel nodded, setting some pieces of flat bread on the stones near the flames to warm them. "She told me it felt rather strange for her to be ordering a prince about."

We ate and spoke more about our childhoods, but the wine was making us sleepy. We retired, I content and Sangrel at least a little unburdened. We allowed ourselves the luxury of sleeping late before heading to the busy city.

* * *

I was not prepared for the swarming parade of people that greeted my eyes as we entered the city gates. The city of Dothan was the capital city of Cyril and it's busiest as well. Vendors of gold jewelry and candied fruit cried out to the masses that streamed past them. Musicians played on the corners of the streets and on occasion a great flock of goats or sheep were pushed through the crowd on their way to potential buyers in the market quarter for livestock. We found a little relief as Sangrel and I paused for some refreshment of cool sweet milk in the shade of one of the market stall tarp coverings.

"It's not always this busy," Sangrel assured me, squeezing closer to Epona to allow a messenger on a donkey to pass. "It will die down an hour after noon."

I nodded, captivated by the scent of cloves from a rolling wagon.

"We will head to my mother's house first," Sangrel explained. "From there we will see who will whisper our names in the king's ear, for none may approach the king unless called."

I nodded, but this royal custom left me on edge. If we could not get an audience…

The house of Sangrel's mother was actually the Southern Palace, built on a large estate on the edge of the city. It was full of luxurious rooms, most with big windows that folded open to let in cool breezes. Leading up to the front gate was a blue tile walkway, edged with fountains, drooping trees and flower gardens.

The queen was a woman who had once been very beautiful. She still kept some of her looks, but her regal bearing was flawless. Sangrel immediately went up to her and kneeled reverently, kissing her hand. She seemed surprised, but laid her hands on his curl-covered head with a smile and bid him rise. They embraced and Sangrel turned to introduce me.

"I am pleased to meet one of the friends of my dear son," she murmured in a soft voice. She extended her hand and I took it, bowing low over it.

"Please enter and refresh yourselves. You will have tea with me."

The bath was the best part. In my own private room, completely lined with white marble there was a pool filled with hot water. After I thoroughly cleaned myself of the grime of travel I soaked in the perfectly heated waters, content to remain for a long time.

All too soon I noticed Sangrel by the edge of the bath, already dressed in the princely finery of a gold-embroidered black tunic and crimson sash.

"You've had enough time in there," he commented, slipping into the sandals he had brought with him.

"Apparently you didn't get enough time" I shot back lazily. "Come in, it's perfect." I flicked my hand on the surface to emphasize my statement, sending the lotus petals in all directions.

My friend turned away and ignored me as he walked out, leaving a bundle of clothes on a bench. I somehow managed to convince myself to get out of the bath and dress myself. I paused by a large mirror in the hall and brushed my damp brown hair back with my fingers. I never had tea with a queen before.

Sangrel was already sitting with his mother at a low table laden with a small feast and three steaming pots of different types of fragrant tea. She welcomed me and insisted I sit on her other side, opposite her son at the little square table. She graciously served us both and I tasted the tea, finding it sweet but leaving me in want of some more substantial food. I helped myself to the small mountain of sandwiches and fruit as the royal lady and her son spoke of serious things.

"Everyone is well that I mentioned was well in my last letter," the Queen said, nipping at a cucumber.

"How is Aega?"

"You will be surprised. Your sister has found favor with the king. She is betrothed to Sir Brana, the grandson of one of his oldest friends, Lord Oron. He approves of the match greatly. I believe they are in love as well, but don't tell anyone," the queen added, smiling at me. Sangrel's expression softened at the mention of his sister.

"She was just a girl when I left," he mumbled, chewing on a slice of nectarine.

"And you were just a small boy," the queen reminded him. "One sorely in need of discipline."

Sangrel colored, searching the ceiling for escape from his mother's stories. "Please Mother, we don't have much time."

The queen sobered, setting down her steaming cup of tea. "I was getting to that," she insisted. "As your sister is in favor, she eats with the king every morning now. She will whisper your name in his ear. Soon he will see what a glorious, princely son you are." The lady was a little pleased with herself and looked to her son for approval. The young man was unreadable a moment before his brows knitted together.

"There has to be more," he said, frustrated. "Even with Sal, his favorite, mentioning my name to him, he still would not see me. I must have forgotten, for this is foolishness. It is if I am poison to him."

My friend surged to his feet and stormed from the room, nearly toppling a passing servant.

The queen had not moved during his outburst. She fingered her half empty cup in quiet reflection for a moment before speaking.

"Sal was the third son I bore to my husband the king, many years before Sangrel, for you know, Sangrel has eleven brothers and sisters before him." I was surprised and bemused by such a number. The queen continued, "from his infancy Sal was a delight to everyone and his father's most favorite child. He befriended his littlest brother and tried to persuade the king to see him. Some ten years ago Sal married advantageously, but it was not long after that he died, as did the only advocate in the court for my youngest son."

"Forgive me, Highness," I interrupted. "But why does the king not see Sangrel? Why do you not put in a word?"

The queen showed no visible discomfort, but she was slow to answer. "My husband and I had a terrible disagreement, nearly twenty years ago, when I was with child. We decided the best way to settle it would be to live in separate palaces, far from each other, yet I would retain my power and title as queen. Some months after that, Sangrel was born. He has never seen his father. I myself do no know why this is."

My only response was a stunned silence. I began to see why the queen had sent such a miserable child away. Here he would be only reminded of his father's refusal to acknowledge him. I began to see this as much more than a simple diplomatic mission. An old wound was slowly opening inside my friend.

"The royal pendant he carries is my own, borrowed so he may travel as a prince." The queen suddenly met my gaze and held it. "You, as his friend, please do what you can to help. He wishes to have his father's approval so much." I told her I would do what I could.

* * *

Wearily, I crawled into my bed at the end of the day. I did not see Sangrel again after his abrupt departure at noon. I spend the rest of the day familiarizing myself with the palace, the ways of the court and life in Cyril. The library of the Southern Palace pleased me very much. They had a large collection of books and scrolls in Hylian which I could read, in every subject imaginable.

As I sank down onto my covers I planned my next day. If Sangrel did not appear, I would continue with more research, perhaps meet with the Princess Aega and see if she could help after all. Just as I was drifting off someone threw my clothes in my face. Wide awake now, I cried out in protest as I was roughly dragged halfway out of bed. I reacted reflexively, my fists instantly searching for my attacker. A familiar move disengaged my strike and I fell sprawled out on the stone floor, looking up at a furious Sangrel.

"Get dressed," he said, his eyes burning with wrath. "And no more games. We ride for the Northern Palace."

*

(a/n: please leave me a review if you have questions/comments/suggestions. Thank you for reading.)


	8. The Children of King Domus

**Chapter Eight: The Children of King Domus**

I did as Sangrel asked, fumbling for my clothes and gear in the dark, not wishing to stoke the fire that already burned within him. I was quiet and quick as possible but nothing appeased him. He hissed orders at me with a very short temper and I caught a glimpse of what he must have been like as an insufferably spoiled prince.

I mourned that I could not draw out a careful plan as I thought I would. It seemed as if our diplomatic mission was spiraling quickly to a bad place very soon.

The horses had been hastily prepared by a groggy servant and they stood waiting for us at the back gate. Epona danced in place, her excitement easily catching on Kuma, who pawed the ground with his hoof. Sangrel hardly waited for me as he leapt upon Epona and urged her through the open gate.

I went after him, barely keeping a grip on my galloping horse. From the Southern Palace to the Northern there was a direct path, through the peach orchard with its groaning branches that eventually opened up to bare meadows occasionally dotted by large boulders. In all, it was less than a four mile journey. That night I wished it was longer in order to give my friend more of a chance to cool down. He only seemed to build up his frustration, pressing his heels against Epona's sides until she whisked her tail in annoyance, grudgingly extending her legs for a quicker pace. She easily outran Kuma and I lost sight of them, only able to follow their plume of dust.

The Northern Palace could be called a fortress, for unlike its elegant southern sister it had a heavily built defensive wall surrounding its entire grounds.

As I came up to the gate Sangrel was already there, striking his fist on the thick iron-studded door.

"Open up," he roared. "The Prince Sangrel is here to see the king!"

To my surprise the door did open and we entered, Sangrel on foot and I still seated atop Kuma and leading Epona. We walked into a courtyard of hard-packed gravel, lined with palms, designed practically, for the purpose of drills, gatherings and exercises. Two men stood in the center, swords hanging from their hips. I guessed that they were Sangrel's older brothers, Crown Prince Solar, and Prince Sereno. They were both much older than Sangrel, well into their late thirties. Solar, straight of stature, had closely cropped black hair and a beard. Sereno was stockier and wore his long swarthy hair in an ornate bronze clip. His sleeveless shirt revealed tightly muscled arms.

Sangrel strode up to them. "What, are you protecting the king? I want to see him now."

His iron will resounded in his voice, yet there were tremors of exhaustion in his limbs.

"You know the way of the court. Nothing will be changed for you," Solar said. "I see you are not master of yourself. Go back to the house of our mother and cool your temper before you are charged with treason."

"I'm not a child anymore, I won't be ordered about like one. If I must fight my way into his chambers I will do so!"

I had slipped from Kuma's back to walk towards Sangrel. I hoped for one last chance to talk his senses back.

To my dismay Sangrel charged his brothers, the bared Master Sword already in his hand. His movements were not precise and controlled like I knew them to be. They were wild and raw, careless and open. Sereno met his brother's sword with his own and completely ceased Sangrel's momentum. He pushed the younger man away and held his stance.

I watched as Sangrel hit the ground hard, but refuse to stay down.

"Sangrel," I called desperately, catching his sleeve. He responded by swinging his sword in a fierce arc between us. I just barely managed to stumble back, but the tip of the shining blade managed to cut the front of my tunic. Our eyes met, Sangrel's were like two cold stones, unapologetic. I withdrew quickly, suddenly unsure of whom this man was. The air was charged with a menacing energy coming from my friend. Yet there was also a force that protested against him, emanating from the Master Sword and Sangrel flinched, adjusting his white-knuckled grip as he turned away from me.

For perhaps two minutes Sangrel raged against his brother, no technique in his sword work to be seen, at one point earning a deep puncture wound in his arm. Sereno easily fended him off, seeming to be content to wear away Sangrel's energy, however, the longer the younger fought the cooler was his thinking. His attacks became cleverer, more deadly and I saw Sereno become uncomfortable. He moved his feet, forced to employ footwork in his defense. I heard Sangrel laugh.

"I've not been idle whilst away, brother," he hissed.

"You've many more years before you catch up to me, little one," Sereno countered in his deep voice, taking back the offensive. To cement his point, he caught Sangrel's sword arm in his large hand and twisted it cruelly.

Sangrel cried out in surprise, his grip loosening on the Master Sword. Sereno shook it free, disarming Sangrel and pulling his arm behind his back. He easily drove the younger man to the ground face-first and pinned him there with his knee. He then calmly looked up at Solar.

My friend writhed and struggled in the dirt, screaming.

"You've no idea my power!" He cried. "I'd kill you all if I could have it, if I was free!" My blood ran cold just hearing those words come from my friend's mouth. I couldn't recognize him as the Hero anymore.

Solar sighed. "Whatever you had, you've nothing now," he said sternly. "You may very well be put to death for this."

Sangrel continued until he was spent, his screams softening to agonized sobs. Prince Sereno lifted him to his feet and I saw his pathetic face covered with dirt. The blood from his wound soaked his sleeve.

"Take him to a cell," Solar ordered before turning to me. I watched Sereno half-carry the young man away before turning my attention to the crown prince. I bowed and waited for him to speak.

"I imagine you are his travelling companion. A Hylian? What is your name, boy?"

"Link, your Highness."

"Master Link, why are you here?"

"I was accompanying Prince Sangrel on his mission to speak with the king about the ceasing of the alliance between Hyrule and Cyril." I faltered and stared at the ground, remembering Zelda. Was I to return home without Sangrel or a new agreement?

"Forgive me," I said. "I failed to stop him. He was not himself."

"You mean he is not usually a self-centered, demanding, violent, and hot-tempered brat?"

I lifted my head sharply. "Until today I knew him as honorable, generous and kind, and I could call him my friend. He is a treasure to Hyrule. I could not recognize him from what he did today."

The prince stared at me, slight interest showing on his angular face.

"You should stay here for the night," Solar said offhandedly, fingering the edge of his fine coat. "There is not much else for you to do at the moment."

"Your Highness, may I see him?" Then, as I picked up the fallen Master Sword and wrapped it in my cloak, I added, "to tend to his wounds."

Solar nodded and summoned a servant to help me with what I needed.

The cell was not what I expected. In Hyrule Castle the cells for prisoners were all far below ground in damp corridors. The dungeons here were above ground, made up of clean, barred cells lined with straw. I found Sangrel in the nearest one, lying on a pile of hay. He had pressed his arm to his chest and he breathed as one exhausted.

"Sangrel," I said, keeping my voice low.

"Be gone," he said tiredly.

"Let me see your arm."

My friend responded by turning away. I took the supplies from the servant and dismissed him. I sat down, determined to be patient.

I did not wait long before the door to the block of cells was opened and a woman of great beauty entered. She acknowledged me with a nod and headed straight for the motionless young man.

"Brother," she said. Sangrel stirred at the sound of her voice. "Aega?" he rasped, turning toward her, his face set with shame.

"Would you leave us a moment?" Aega asked me in a kind voice. "I will take care of him."

I reluctantly left, filling the time by caring for the horses and returning later to find that the sister had bound up her brother's arm and washed his dirt-streaked face. Sangrel, now sitting up, made no movement as I came toward them but Aega stood and introduced herself. I was amazed by her appearance. She was perhaps twenty, thick black hair tumbling unbound to her slim waist and her green silk shawl picking up the flecks of emerald in her warm hazel eyes. With remorse I remembered she was betrothed and soon to be married.

We both sat down again, across from Sangrel.

"I was saying to my brother how hard I was working to get Father to notice him," Aega began. "It would have taken time, but I think he is very interested in you, Sangrel."

My friend's head jerked up a little, but he maintained the quiet submissive posture, his gaze never leaving his folded knees.

"What has come over you," she questioned gently but firmly. "Has a serpent nested in your heart and whispered such a foolish act to you?"

Sangrel stubbornly turned away, his hand clutching at his sternum. Whatever I had felt coming from him before seemed to be carefully contained again.

I talked to Aega for a while longer, figuring out how to get Sangrel an audience with the king. I soon remembered how late it was and excused myself. I returned to the small, simple guest room the servant had shown me earlier and collapsed onto the bed, quite tired and not bothering to even pull my boots off.

*

(a/n: If anyone is interested to know, I have always imagined Sangrel's Epona to be similar to the Arabian horse breed, about 14.2 hands high. Kuma would be a light draft horse cross, 17 hands. Please review! I do like useful reviews.)


	9. The Seed Upon the Wind

**Chapter Nine: The Seed Upon the Wind**

With the morning I remembered that my friend was in prison, but just as I was leaving my room Aega appeared.

"Father wishes for you to eat breakfast with us," she said, smiling. She took my arm and we walked to the dining hall. It took me a moment to register what I was about to do. Blood rushed to my ears and I felt embarrassed for Sangrel. I briefly considered a refusal, but if there was one chance to reduce the disappointment of this trip for Zelda…

The dining hall was just as sparsely decorated as the rest of the Palace, but the long table was well stocked with coffee and fruit and bread and other delicious breakfast foods.

The king sat at the head of the table and motioned for me to sit at his left. Aega left me to sit in-between her two older brothers on his right.

The king insisted on serving me himself, piling a plate with thinly sliced meats and cheeses. As he did this I got a chance to study his appearance. From all the siblings I had met, Sangrel took after his father the most. Despite his advanced years he was still a handsome man, quite hale and strong of arm. An old scar encircled part of his neck and I could only assume the old man had seen his share of battles.

"Well, Master Link," he said. "We won't talk of Hyrule right now, for that is unpleasant. Now we eat and speak of good things."

"What good is there this morning?" I blurted out. "Your son sits in prison within these walls, tormented because he cannot show his face to you! What else is there to speak of when this shadow resides over my mind?" I dared not even breathe after my outburst, waiting for what would happen next. Would I be thrown out? I silently asked Zelda for her forgiveness.

The siblings across from me were expressing various degrees of shock. To my own surprise the king smiled and laughed gruffly.

"I'm glad you've said what is on your heart. Walk in the garden with me," he said, rising and excusing himself. I followed helplessly. We wound up in the unsurprisingly ordinary kitchen garden, the rows of leeks and cucumbers our only audience.

"That boy sitting in the cell," the old king began, "tell me what he is like when he is not tearing down my door in the middle of the night."

I reddened, but not believing that it would do any good, said, "he is noble, but not because he was born so. He keeps his promises, he submits to his ruler the princess, he knows when to hold his tongue. He laughs when his friends laugh, he mourns when they mourn. He is a good listener, open and honest, yet he keeps a part of himself hidden." I paused, my eyes stinging at the memory. "He saved my life."

"I see," murmured the king. "He is honored there, in Hyrule?"

"More than he realizes. Perhaps not as much as he deserves."

"He should go back. He is so much happier there."

"Your majesty," I begged. "Why will you not see him? It seems to be all that drives him."

"I did see him, and he saw me" said the king softly. "What you said to Solar last night, and to me just now have convinced me that my words to him were right." He left me in stunned silence as he walked back indoors. He called over his shoulder, "dine with me this evening, afterwards we will talk."

With my heart beating I made my way quickly back to Sangrel's cell. He was in the same position I had first found him, still and pale. To my surprise the barred door was open.

As I neared him I slowed, suddenly dreading what words my friend might say. I could only pause in the doorway, as if asking for permission to enter.

"I was unable to sleep last night," he said, his voice weak and distant. "How fortunate that I could not, for hours after Aega left, there _he_ was, standing over me, finally."

"What did he say?"

I feared he did not hear me. I was about to ask again when he took a deep breath and said, repeating the king's words: "'you must forget I am your father. May your father be the wind, carrying you like a seed upon strong gusts far from this place, somewhere you may grow tall. For my dreams of you have been vivid and terrible. They told me you will destroy all of us, including yourself. Never return.' That is what he said."

My mouth was dry and I felt my heart wring in grief for my friend. I fell to my knees beside him. "I'm so sorry," I managed to say.

"He is right," Sangrel said flatly. "I never belonged here. The short time we have been here is proof. I have been a monster, but you have been more than a friend." He sat up and looking me in the eye, said, "If you can forgive my thoughtless actions against your undeserved self, may I call you brother?"

I smiled, nodding my head gladly. My friend returned my smile with a troubled one; he had not yet forgiven himself perhaps.

I was still hungry, for I had not even touched my breakfast, so Aega was a welcome sight as she walked toward us with a tray piled high with food. She stayed with us, talking about diverting subjects as she poured the tea. I could say I was genuinely happy for her marriage, for she is a wonderful woman and I count her as one of my friends. Besides, she was also now my sister.

* * *

The evening meal was a different affair than breakfast. Instead of an intimate repast, dinner was an extravagant display of courtly manners. Perhaps twenty other nobles dined at the long table, all engaged in conversation. I found it a tiring affair, for each one of those nobles had a question for me, especially about Hyrule. No one mentioned Sangrel; it seemed everyone knew he was at the moment in Cyril, although estranged from his father.

I was exhausted by the time the last noble had left their plate of bones, leaving only the king, Aega and I. I thought it an unusual time and place to speak of such important matters between countries, never mind that I had no experience in the matter to begin with.

"Your Highness," I began hesitantly, "I must ask you about the reasons for your withdrawal from relations with Hyrule."

The king settled back in his chair, a cup of wine resting in his fingers. "You know your country is small, with little real forces and not much to offer in the way of trade. I hardly would call Hyrule a friend. What has she ever done for Cyril, Master Link?"

"Forgive me, Highness, but do you mean to say that satisfaction of greed is all that should maintain a friendship?"

The king laughed at my frankness.

"Father," said his daughter, "Hyrule may not be as vast as us, but they offer very special trade items like honey and cheese, both of which you had for breakfast. Also, your sons carry swords from Ordon, very fine ones indeed. Do not forget timber, of which we have very little."

"You have done your research, dear," her father mused, taking her hand. "But we can either do without or get those items from somewhere else."

"What will it take?" I asked desperately. "What will convince you to open your gates to your neighbors again?"

The old king only seemed to be waiting for that particular question, for he answered readily.

"I imagine a gift, to show Hyrule's proof of friendship, would do."

Aega looked surprised for a moment, before realization shadowed her eyes. "Father, no, do not ask that. Not even Sal…"

"Master Link has already proved he can be a better convincer than Sal," the king countered. "There is a small territory to the north of us," he began, "rich in fragrant, exotic trees, especially cedar. Go there, and if you can convince the Lady who governs that land to let me harvest one of her hundred year trees, you shall have renewed our agreements with Hyrule."

As I left it seemed a simple task. The king wanted one tree. As we saddled our horses the next morning I told Sangrel. The young man buried his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes.

"Of all things," he mumbled, turning to check the cinch on Epona.

"What is the matter?" I asked.

"Ah, the cedar tree," Sangrel groaned. "The king has been trying to get one ever since he was a young man. I do not know why myself, but as the story goes, the ruler of the cedar forest would never let him have one, no matter how many convincing people he sent up there. He thought he might have been close ten years ago when my brother Sal married the daughter of the last Lord of the Cedar Wood, but still no tree. He has asked the impossible." Sangrel sighed heavily, grudgingly preparing his bags.

Aega appeared with a parcel she had prepared for us, sweets and dried fruits and meats to take on our journey. As we said our farewells, Sangrel took the ram pendant from his neck and laid it in his sister's hand.

"Make sure it goes back to our mother," he told her. Their eyes exchanged a silent message before we left, our parting feeling more permanent then I would have thought.

*

(a/n: Please review!)


	10. A Lady's Request

**Chapter Ten: A Lady's Request**

As we traveled east across Cyril, little separated us from the forest country in the north. Only a few settlements, mostly families making a living on raising livestock, were dotted here and there on the gently rolling plains. There were abundant lush grasses for animals to feed on. It grew so high in some places it brushed the undersides of our horses.

It was also very rainy. I was glad Sangrel insisted on purchasing the heavy oilskin cloaks from the last tiny village we visited. It kept us warm and dry and covered a good deal of the horses too.

The closer we got to the forest, the more constant the downpour became. What should have been a two day trip became three, for we had to zigzag to different shelters to rest and dry off. Sangrel knew the way fairly well, for he had traversed it a few times to visit his brother. Whenever I thought we would never escape the rain he would lead us to an outcropping of rock just big enough for two riders and their horses, or a lone pinion tree with a wide protective canopy.

The morning of the third day the forest country began immediately with a thick line of trees, like a protective wall. We paused at the edge to rest a moment before entering. Sangrel fished inside his cloak for his amber glass.

"This lens used to belong to my brother," he said. "It is a royal treasure traditionally given to the third son of the king for safekeeping. He let me borrow it when I last visited." He smiled wistfully. "I've never been able to decide if I am the third now."

"You can't take your brother's place," I answered, the sting of Keith's passing still sharp. A violent peal of thunder interrupted us, the horses shifting uneasily.

"Stay close," I heard my friend say. "These woods swallow men whole. It is far too easy to get lost." Holding the glass to his eye he entered, leading the way through the dripping trees. I kept Kuma's nose on Epona's tail, determined not to lose my way.

I felt uneasy amongst the tightly knit branches and trunks when normally I enjoyed being in the woods. An hour in I heard whispers, singsong chanting so far on the edge of my hearing that I wasn't sure if it was just in my head or not.

More than once Sangrel had to get my attention as I began to slip from whatever invisible path he was tracking. Yet I could see that he too was struggling to focus. There were just too many alluring groves and dark thickets the farther we went. Motes of light played about the heads of our fatigued horses and shadows jumped on the edge of our vision. The Hero dared not call for a rest the whole time, even as the sun slipped past its zenith. We kept pressing forward desperately, keeping our eyes open for some trace of the village of the Lady of the Wood.

At some point we encountered a crumbling stone wall and followed along it, Sangrel turning to tell me that we were close. He reached out to touch the welcome surface and unknowingly his hand brushed against a dark purple flower. He retracted his limb with a sharp hiss, the malevolent prickly bud glistening triumphantly with red fluid.

I asked wearily, "what is it?"

Sangrel shook his head, putting his mouth to the wound. "I don't know. I hope it's not poison." To be sure, he drew some of his blood out and wrapped the wound.

We continued a little farther before a man in a burgundy cloak on foot darted out from the trees in front of us.

"Who goes there?" he cried, a crossbow already locked on us. I noticed he was quite an old man, dull green eyes set in a tired face surrounded by a mane of shaggy hair and a long beard.

Sangrel raised his empty hands, bowing his head in greeting. "Ho, Sir Luz. It is I, Sangrel Aurea, brother of Lord Sal and this is my companion, Link of Hyrule."

Sir Luz seemed relieved. "I apologize, prince," he said, pointing the crossbow away. "There is a great crisis in the village and we are all very much on edge. But you must be tired from wandering all day. Come back with me."

We gratefully followed the old forest knight, the woods not nearly as ominous. Sangrel had been right. The village was fairly close.

There were no guards at the gates, the iron doors swinging on their hinges, casting long shadows in the afternoon sun. We entered and I saw neat stone houses set amidst soft waving grasses. My friend tugged at the neck of his tunic, looking uncomfortable.

Our horses were taken to the stables and Sangrel and I Followed Sir Luz through the cobbled main square to the largest building in town, the Great Hall. At first it looked like a half-ruined fort, the towers and upper portions of the walls knocked away, leaving the lower rooms still intact, crowned by a ragged edge of stonework. It looked as if several great trees had been convinced to lean together to form a peaked roof right in the center of the structure.

Inside I was amazed by the beauty of the hall. There was no roof, save the cover that the boughs of the trees provided. Hanging down on long chains, lanterns of sheet copper with patterns punched through them lit the green and white marble floor.

I noticed the servants were on edge, nearly bumping into each other as they hurried to and fro from the rooms and hallways that connected this main room. I saw a couch positioned at the far end where there was hung an ornate tapestry, as well as less ornate seats along the walls. A very beautiful woman sat on the couch, listening to another knight who knelt before her.

The noble woman was clearly distressed. Her hair, dark and thick, looked like it had been pulled by nervous fists and was unkempt. Her eyes were large and brown, rimmed with red.

She did not rise, and without seeing Sangrel and me, asked in a worn voice for a report from Luz.

"My lady," he said bowing low, "I have brought two travelers."

The lady looked up immediately, her eyes settling on Sangrel first.

"Sangrel, brother, you have grown! It has been many seasons since the last summer you stayed here. And now you come to my door at this time, but it is impossible that you could have heard…"

"Lady Petalwood," Sangrel said. "We have come for a matter for the king. But we did hear of some crisis from your knight and we offer ourselves for your use in whatever capacity."

The woman stared at him a moment, and what looked to be relief and resolve settled onto her face.

"I know what he wants," she croaked. "But I am in need and require a warrior with absolute courage and cunning."

"I see," Sangrel said, stepping closer. "Tell me, lady, what is your trouble."

"Forgive me," she sniffed, sitting up straighter. "Yesterday my little son disappeared and despite our efforts, we cannot find him and I fear I have lost him."

As I listened I noticed a thick bandage on her ankle. I surmised that she had been injured in the effort to search for her son and I felt instant sympathy.

"Help me," she pleaded, "and I will give the king what he wants."

To my surprise Sangrel fell to his knees clumsily. "No," he gasped. "I'll do it because you need my help, not for any payment. We'll discuss that later…later when…" He did not finish, instead tumbling forward, and I realized he had lost consciousness.

*

(a/n: In my mind, Lady Petalwood looks quite like Penelope Cruz, late twenties. Please review. Honest opinions welcome.)


	11. The Hero's Secret

**Chapter Eleven: The Hero's Secret**

There was a tense silence in the room as Luz bent over Sangrel's form and unwrapped his hand.

"He was scratched by a dark purple flower," I explained, fear souring my stomach.

"Take him to a room and call the apothecary," the lady commanded of one of her nearby servants. I had not thought it possible for her to look more worried.

The other knight and I carried Sangrel to a side room where more servants had hastily piled a few soft pallets to make a bed.

The apothecary, called Amatia, arrived quickly. She was a very young woman, but she worked neatly and expertly, examining the wound, questioning me and selecting ingredients from her bags. She stuffed them into her mortar and pulverized them into a paste. She mixed it with a little spring water before pouring it down Sangrel's mouth. She then made a poultice for his hand.

This all took place in ten minutes.

"Do you see this often?" I asked as Amatia rested for a moment.

"Quite," she answered, tying back her blond hair and giving my pointed ears a lingering glance. "There are just too many poisonous things for folks to get into here in the forest, especially these poison sticker flowers. Where I come from, Denos, not everything tries to kill you. That's just north of here. Now, never mind your friend. He just needs to work it out of his system. The medicine I gave should help, but he won't be comfortable for a good time yet. He should rest for a few days."

She left, content with her work. I sat for a moment, wondering if I should speak to the lady. Sangrel convulsed in his sleep and I glanced over at him. It unnerved me to see him truly resting, only knowing him to be assuming a constant, tireless state of readiness. I began unfastening the ornate pin on his cloak, thinking I should try to make him comfortable. After tugging off his boots I decided he would forgive me if I took off his woven armor too. As I was untying the lacing on the side I noticed a large tear along the seam of his tunic that had not been repaired yet. I nearly jumped back in surprise as something black and white wound its way across my friend's skin. Upon closer examination it appeared to be a thin ribbon of tattoo that contained runic script and moved ceaselessly over Sangrel's ribs like a flat snake. Curious, I removed the leather cuirass and pulled at the neck of his tunic to find more bands spanning his upper arms, shoulders and chest and congregating over his breastbone before wrapping behind his back and beginning again, a living knot.

I did not know what to think of the moving marks, or even if I should ask my friend about it. All I knew was he had meant for it to stay hidden and my heart beat abnormally; I was afraid for him. I quickly pulled his green cloak over him and made sure there was water where he could reach it if he woke and left the room, closing the door behind me. Luz approached as soon as he saw me.

"Her Ladyship wishes to know how the Prince Sangrel is faring," he informed me.

"He will recover," I said. "He should be left alone to rest for now."

He nodded and left me by the door, but returned again to call me back into the main room.

"I regret I have not been civil to you, Link of Hyrule," the lady said as I knelt before the couch. "But I see you are a swordsman. Please consider going out to help in the search. Sir Luz and I will look after Sangrel here."

I nodded, grateful to be of help. I was given a set of fresh arrows and a short bow at my request, as well as provisions.

"Wear this," Luz said, pressing a thick copper ring into my hand. "You are unfamiliar with these woods, but this will guide you back to the village."

I took the rested Kuma and set off towards the north, hoping my instincts would guide me as they had in finding Sangrel when he hunted the wolfos.

I was relieved to find that the copper ring did work. As I rode farther from the village I felt a constant, minute inkling to turn back in that direction, as if tied to the front gate by an ever-stretching rope.

With the fear of getting lost removed I maneuvered through the trees more comfortably. This part of the woods was less hostile and had I not a mission on my mind I would have enjoyed discovering the musical springs and mossy places to sit and relax. Frantic searching had not helped the boy, so I hoped a more thorough search would.

I found mostly hidden partial footprints here and there. I lost all trace, however, after an hour of tracking. I despaired, but I pushed the panicked thoughts from my mind. I had to think clearly or I would only look about in frenzied circles like all the other searchers.

If I was a nine-year-old boy, where would I go?

I came to a split in the path. One way led down and was darkened by trees. To the left the path looked more inviting; it was bright and gently led up. If the child was lost he would stay away from frightening places, if he were smart he would search for higher ground to get his bearings. I turned Kuma's nose toward the left and we were greeted by the weakening rays of the sun as the branches cleared above us.

Evening was upon the woods now, I felt Kuma grow tense as the shadows deepened. We had searched the rest of the high ground and the thinning path descended into the trees again. In the dim light I noticed the trees in this area were older. Some had fallen and they were so thick in girth I had to steer my horse around them.

My skin prickled as I rode by a stone marker, followed by several others. I had come into a graveyard, the trees, all ancient cedar, standing as sentries.

Despite the unsettling surroundings I had to exhale in relief when I saw a small boy with raven-black hair sitting on a sarcophagus.

"Hello," he said with a nervous tremor in his voice. "Are you looking for me?"

"Yes," I replied, riding up to him and dismounting. "Your mother is worried about you. Why do you tarry here?"

The boy had no opportunity to answer, for a shock ran through me as a battle cry rang about us. The hooves of four horses clattered into the graveyard, their ghostly forms and riders unhindered by the overgrown tombstones and illuminating the space with an unnatural light I had never witnessed. I was filled with fear and Kuma picked up on it, dancing in place.

"What has come into our resting place?" one of the horsemen cried, a pale glittering lance in his hand. My heart jumped wildly, painfully beating against my ribs as I tried to figure out what to do. Feeling helpless, I turned to the ghosts, placing my weapons before them and kneeling.

The leader lowered his lance and dismounted, walking toward me. He was dressed in the remains of knightly attire, a rotting cape trailing behind him.

"How strange," he murmured, his empty voice echoing from some unknown world. "We felt a wisp of evil come into our grounds, but I find only this Hylian boy."

"I was once an unwilling host to a shadow poe, sir," I explained, barely able to keep from trembling in body and voice.

The ghost nodded and his companions shifted restlessly. "Its evil still clings to you like a garment to us spirits, but we are glad it is only a remnant. We are old, long gone guardians of this place and we sleep lightly in our graves, forgive our rashness." He paused for a few moments, lifting his translucent hand, palm out toward me. "Yes, you have something else. It had been so long since I have felt it, like a fire in the night..."

My skin crawled. "What do you speak of?"

"The Triforce of Courage, child. You have it buried within you. It draws spirits because it is brimming with tangible warmth and pure life, both of which we lack. What comfort to feel it pass by again, as it once did in the past. Your presence has settled us and we ride back home. Leave, and take the child, for this place is only fit for the dead, and it is not just we who cannot sleep."

The riders turned and dashed back into the shadows, their eerie light disappearing with them and throwing us on the mercy of the faint illumination from the moon.

"Are you unharmed?" I asked the boy as he crawled down from his marble perch.

He nodded, accepting the flask of water I offered him. "I think they were protecting me," he said. "They wouldn't let me leave, but they didn't hurt me."

I nodded but my mind was already turning to what the knight's ghost had sensed within me. A series of doubts consumed me quicker than the deepening darkness of the night.

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(a/n: Please review!)


	12. A Song for Flowers

**Chapter Twelve: A Song for Flowers**

Lady Petalwood wept as I returned her son Resin to her arms. She held the boy at arms length to gaze at him and embraced him again.

As I was telling her what had transpired she saw I was tired and dismissed her court for the day, promising to reward me tomorrow. I left quickly to check on my friend.

He rested quietly, just as I had left him. I wanted to question him, force him to tell me what he had been hiding, but I could not bring myself to disturb him. Another pallet had been left in the corner. I settled upon it and fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Sangrel was still in some pain the next morning and to my astonishment he stayed in his bed. He did not treat me as if he knew I was aware of the strange tattoo and this relieved me somewhat. I decided to put my questions away for the time being. The matter of the hundred year tree and eventually the reopening of trade needed to be settled.

I was surprised to see what must have been the entire court assembled in the main room. Lady Petalwood was adorned in a gown of ivory white, extensively decorated with an ornate green leaf pattern on the neck and long sleeves and a sleeveless overcoat of gold cloth. Her long hair was arranged atop her head in a clever manner and bound with gold bands. A finishing touch of black kohl lining her eyes and she looked as grand as a queen.

Now seated upon an elegant chair of ebony wood, the lady addressed me.

"Link of Hyrule," she said, rising carefully from her seat. "Do not worry about that old tree. I decided long ago the king should have one, if nothing else for the flattery of his persistence. But Link, ask anything of me, for you have brought my dear son back. He is my heart and all I have left from my beloved husband. I can shower you with gold, coat your mail with silver, and line your cloak with opals."

I bowed and shook my head as respectfully as I could manage, remembering the words of my friend. "Nothing, my lady, there is nothing I want. I cannot accept payment."

"I feel an indomitable spirit and true courage in you," she sighed, "and I hope it never leaves your line. If riches are of no interest, you will let me knight you, if nothing else?"

The Lady of the Wood borrowed my sword and touched my head and shoulders with it before a rich burgundy traveling cloak was laid over my shoulders. Sir Luz came to her side, bearing a simple box of striped wood, polished to a high gloss.

She opened the box and I could see almost a dozen cloak pins within, all unique. Lady Petalwood selected a round gold one decorated with the image of a tree's root system in black enamel. She gathered the thick material at my shoulder and fastened the ornate pin to secure it.

"Rise, Sir Link of the Cedar Wood," said Lady Petalwood.

I did as she bid and she came with a slight limp to face me, placing a solemn kiss on my brow. I felt a shock go through me and I realized something significant had happened, although I knew not what it was.

"Go freely in this realm," she said, "for you are one of my chosen few, a being of character and cunning and bravery." The court applauded and came to me to take my hand in welcome and congratulations.

I was glad to rest for the remainder of the day. I learned much about the small forest village from Resin, who gladly served as my guide. About a hundred men, women and children lived there, some like Amatia the apothecary coming from outside lands. They all served Lady Petalwood, caring for the trees in some capacity. A limited number of trees were harvested and sold as income for the village, but the people mostly sustained themselves. There were other knights as well, besides Sir Luz, but they were away on missions.

I marveled that within a day I had been fully accepted into this small community. Resin led me about, introducing me to the village elder, a woman named Lydia who gave us freshly baked wild berry tarts.

Sangrel and I were given a small uninhabited cottage for our own use during our stay. My friend was determined to get better as quickly a possible and was already attempting to leave his bed whenever I wasn't looking.

Of all people I expected him to be pleased at my knighthood. As soon as his nephew left us his smile faded and he regarded my new cloak and pin. His expression was a mix of wariness and disappointment.

"Be cautious," he said, leaning against his pillows and drinking mint tea. "Lady Petalwood is very charming, but do not cross her. Do not be surprised to find yourself bound up by this place. Guard your heart."

I grew angry at his words but I chose to say nothing.

* * *

That night Sangrel began making plans for our return trip to Hyrule. He predicted he would be well enough in a half week to ride. A cold anger rose within me, fueled by what I had previously learned.

"I will not be going back," I told him, sitting on stool and retying the rawhide grip on my sword.

Sangrel regarded me from the edge of his bed, a stunned expression on his face. "Not going back? What game can you be playing? What man does not wish to return to his home? It is even home for me now."

I shook my head. "I'm going further on," I replied, hoping I could avoid the real reason. "There is so much to see that I cannot get from the books in a thousand libraries."

"No," said Sangrel coldly. I started, looking up at him in surprise. "You cannot just go off on your own, on some…some holiday. It is more dangerous than you realize. You belong to Hyrule and your place is there."

"What am I, a servant?" I asked heatedly. "You may treat me like one, but I'm free to go as I want, for I have no ties."

"Are we not friends?" Sangrel demanded, his clenched fingers white.

"I don't think distance would have any effect on our friendship," I said through gritted teeth, "but dishonesty would."

Sangrel looked as if I had shot him through with an arrow. He had that same look in his eyes as when we had first met. Suddenly he lay down upon his bed, pale with exhaustion. "Never mind, we will talk more tomorrow," he said.

"Did you know I have the Triforce of Courage? Surely Zelda knew."

His silence answered both my questions in the affirmative. They had known from the moment they met me. I felt my spirits drop even further.

The single candle in our room leapt up as it reached the end of its wick, dying in a puddle of melted yellow wax and leaving us in semidarkness.

"Then, this means you either do not possess a piece of the Triforce, or…"

Sangrel stiffened, pulling himself up back into a sitting position and looking at me. "I don't care what you know. I won't tell you anything because I have sworn not to!" He turned his back on me, as if determined to feign sleep to elude me.

I stared at his back, feeling like a vice was grasping my heart, paralyzing my body. I was so angry at him and Zelda. I could not stand to be surrounded by such secrets, secrets that I felt entitled to know. I was still angry at Sangrel for his confusing actions at the Southern and Northern Palaces. As I paused to consider how to respond, something came quietly to my mind and I shivered just thinking about what it implied.

"Is it a curse seal?" I whispered to his back, half hoping he did not hear.

The sound of a quiet laugh met me in the dark, sending a prickle of fear down my neck. "What do you know of curses, Link?"

My blood boiled at his words. A rage arose in my chest, so thick I might have choked on it, were it tangible. _What did I know of curses?_ I hadn't forgotten the monster that had lived within me once, giving me pain every day for most of my life. Of course I knew; it was like being a prisoner in your own body, with no way to fight your captor. With difficulty I swallowed, trying to focus on breathing to calm myself. As angry as I was, I did not want to start a fight.

"Only what they tell you in books," I said through clenched teeth. "Script curse seals are exclusively used to bind the darkest of evil."

"You are much more well-read than I have thought, but yes, it is a seal. Ask no more of it, for I gave my word to not speak of it."

My chest felt curiously empty and heavy at the same time. I put away my sword and prepared for sleep. I went to my bed believing that I would not be getting any true rest.

* * *

I somehow managed to leave before Sangrel awoke. The chill mist still clung to the resting village that morning and I dug my fingers into Kuma's thick mane to warm them. After I finished tacking him up and tying my belongings to the saddle we headed out, taking the path that I knew would take me north to Denos.

As the gentle pull of the copper ring grew weaker, the trees around me thinned. Kuma and I had gone at a steady pace for some hours but I stopped and dismounted, turning around to let our follower catch up.

Sangrel was riding atop Epona bareback, not having the strength to saddle her. He was hunched over her mane, pale and making a great effort to still his shaking body. A bare sword, not the Master Sword, was clenched in his hand.

"Come back," he said faintly, sliding to the ground and leaning against the chestnut horse.

"Or you'll fight me and drag me back?" I asked, my heart heavy with pity. "Where is the Master Sword? Did you leave it behind because you know you cannot use it on its true wielder? I am not going to fight you, Sangrel. I would only fight you at your full power or not at all. At this point you will only harm yourself and our friendship." This was a strange turn of events and I stood there, hoping the nervous tremors in my limbs would not betray me.

The Cyrilian prince said nothing for a while, his dark eyes barely able to hold my gaze. "You must hate me, Link," he finally said bitterly. "How can you not despise me, the imposter Hero who has taken the role that is rightly yours? I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. Why can't you just come back?"

"I need some time away from Hyrule," I replied. "Just like you needed to be away from Cyril. Just know that I could never feel any hatred toward you. You've taught me many things, and you're my friend. But I must go, I have…so many things to think on."

To my surprise, Sangrel lowered his head and nodded. He was tired and had given up. The sword dropped from his fingers and he sank to his knees on the pine needle covered ground.

"Just be careful out there, Link," he told me. "And come back to see us some day."

I nodded, glad I had been willingly released from the situation. Sangrel did not move from his spot. He wrapped his green mantle around himself and watched me go, worry openly showing in his black eyes.

I climbed back on Kuma and rode down the path, feeling a release from the ring as we went. Soon I was too far to tell where the village was. The trees, once ever-present companions, disappeared, eventually leaving us with a rocky path between two great clefts of stone. Down we went, the air remaining cool as the sun rose above us.

We stopped for lunch, I eating the apple and bread I had packed and Kuma working on a patch of green grass.

What greeted our eyes as we exited the stone pathway were great fields of sunflowers nestled in a deep green valley, their dark, gold-fringed faces following the sun's path above. A gust breathed over them, a wave rippling through the sea of large flowers. I took out my pipe, overjoyed by what I saw, and played a glorious melody as we headed further in.

*

**End Part I**

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(a/n: Part Two to follow. Please review. I am interested to know what you think about the characters and where the plot is going. Questions, comments, suggestions, and corrections welcome and appreciated.)


	13. It's Dangerous to Go Alone

**Three from Hyrule**

A Legend of Zelda Fanfiction

by P.N. Blackford

* * *

**Part II**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter One: It's Dangerous to Go Alone**

The farther I rode from the Cedar Wood, the less I thought about Sangrel. At first I kept track of the days he was recovering, then I calculated how long it would take him to travel back down to the ram statue and stone bridge. He would then quickly cross the Gerudo desert, for he did not have me to slow him down, and he would be back at the castle, telling Zelda what had happened. Of course the gates of trade would have been opened before he returned, so she would be pleased to see him, even if he had not brought me back as well.

When I came upon the fields of sunflowers I had entered Denos, the kingdom north of Hyrule. I stayed for perhaps two weeks in the great capital city of White Water, enjoying the sights and the surrounding natural wonders before moving on.

Kuma and I travelled with no intentional direction. We lived off whatever the land provided us. There was one week where I lived off of little else than oranges and prawns.

It was certainly less convenient to travel alone, but I was content with Kuma. He had gone from being a fat, pampered town horse to a lean, muscled mount that I trusted and relied upon. He had a good head and kept himself out of trouble.

I never stayed anywhere longer than a week. I hardly spoke to anyone, for I saw few people. I was free to sort my thoughts but I didn't want to think about Sangrel and Zelda, so I hardly did. It was only ragged mountains, deep lakes, the great emptiness, Kuma and I. My perch on the cliffs of Kakariko seemed so unsatisfactory to me now.

After that first month, when spring turned to summer, I stayed nearer the settlements west of Denos. After a month of eating only what I could find and hunt in the wild I wanted to eat at an inn and get Kuma a little bit of good quality hay.

The first thing I did was leave my Ordonian sword hidden in the woods. I didn't know if I'd be allowed to bring it into the establishment.

I handed Kuma to a stable boy when I approached the Dizzy Moth Inn. The tiny windows looked inviting, glowing with candle and fire light.

I settled at a small table and ordered from the serving woman half a small roasted pheasant with carrots, potato soup and a loaf of dark bread.

Thankfully the serving woman gladly took rupees as I had no Denosian coin. I left the rosy interior of the Dizzy Moth for the dark of night, feeling full and content. I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings rather than my stomach as I retrieved Kuma and walked a ways down the road with him, about a mile.

An unfamiliar hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, a very heavy punch making contact with my face the next instant. I crumpled to the ground, stunned and hurting very much.

I cracked open my eyes to look up, seeing very little of my attacker other than a heavy club in his hand. It was like I had forgotten everything Sangrel had taught me about defense. I raised my left arm up over my head in a feeble attempt to protect myself, only to have the big man close his hand over mine and bring the weapon down on my forearm with the force of a giant's blow. I heard my bone crack.

I screamed and fell over onto my back where a knee was pressed to my collarbone and fingers searched inside my travel bag. For the first time I despaired of my vulnerable solitude.

"Get his horse," I heard him say in a gravelly voice.

Kuma had jumped away when I had been attacked and another shadowy attacker reached clumsily for the skittish horse. It might have been my screams that alerted him, for Kuma spun around, darting off with his loose reins flying. I was somewhat thankful, for rupees could be replaced; Kuma could not.

The thief pinning me to the ground cursed, turning me over and tying my hands behind my back. I couldn't help but cry out as he twisted the broken arm. He ignored me, stalking off to consult with his partner. They decided amongst themselves seventy-five rupees and the beautiful ebony bow and quiver of arrows given to me by Lady Petalwood was a fair catch. I thought this exceedingly true considering I hadn't even out up a fight. I fought back a rising wave of anger toward myself.

They left me on the side of the road as they walked off, one of them whistling cheerfully as he recounted my rupees.

I could do little more for half an hour other than lay there, trying to put off the pain. I shivered and retched on the pathway, struggling to stifle my growing fear. I wished Sangrel was there, despite my resentment of his actions and secrecy. I saw the pin points of light from the far off Dizzy Moth snuff out, the woods surrounding me coming alive with chirps and minute rustlings.

Pulling myself up to my knees slowly, I bit my lip and drew a sharp breath. Once I was standing I let out a low whistle. Kuma came instantly, plodding out from between the trees, his head down, the white blaze on his face clearly visible. He was such a welcome sight I almost cried as he checked me over, his nostrils blowing.

"I don't suppose you can untie my hands, Kuma?"

Walking back the way Kuma had come, I found my sword where I had left it covered with brush in between the roots of an elm tree. Very carefully I positioned it against the trunk with my feet so I could cut my bonds free. It took a long time, and I still had to deal with my broken arm after I had finished.

I still had my empty bag and I used it to make a makeshift splint, rolling the thick leather over my arm and securing it with the straps and buckles.

I didn't want to go back for help from the inn. Something told me it wasn't safe where people were and I led Kuma further into the trees, hoping to find a comfortable, thief-free place to sleep. With every step my arm ached and my face swelled.

We came upon a moonlit meadow, completely covered in soft grass and big white flowers, each with a drop of luminescent blue in their centers. Kuma's head immediately ducked down to grab some of the grass. I wandered further on, dazzled by the beauty of my surroundings.

"Ah, don't step on the luna flowers, young man!"

I jumped, turning to face the owner of the voice. I saw a middle-aged man in silver-rimmed spectacles and a wrinkled brown coat crouching on the ground amongst the blooms, notebook in hand.

"I'm sorry," I said, sheathing my sword clumsily. I was left-handed and it was awkward holding my sword with the right. "I didn't know this was your field."

"Well, ah, it doesn't belong to anybody, so you're not at fault. I am studying these flowers, you see. They only bloom at night under a full moon."

"Of course," I murmured, suddenly feeling how tired and hurt I was. The man saw it too and strode over to me, a collection of glass vials clattering together somewhere under his coat.

"You're hurt, lad," he said pointing to my makeshift splint. My bruised face must have given it away as well.

"It's not that bad," I tried to say, but he shook his head.

"I'm a physician, so you should let me look at you. I've fixed many a broken arm. It'll be all the worse if you don't treat it right away!" He didn't wait for an answer, but enthusiastically hooked my uninjured arm into his and led me toward the opposite end of the meadow. Kuma grunted and followed us.

"Ah, I haven't had the pleasure of patching a broken arm since my boy Telon fell from the bridge last summer! Here, my mansion is not far, just down this hill and across the stream." He seemed very excited, tugging me along as fireflies rose up along our tracks.


	14. The House of Lipton

**Chapter Two: The House of Lipton**

Lord Amos Lipton, as my new friend was called, was a minor noble of the southern region of Denos and a widower with three children. By the time he inherited his ancient family's fortune there was very little left to sustain his home and family, so he had become a physician as well as —good for me — a part-time naturalist.

He insisted I stay with him and his family until I was well. To make up for it I taught his two young sons and daughter music lessons. My two week stay turned out to be a year-long employment as Lord Lipton convinced me to stay on as a teacher of various other subjects. In between lessons I was more of a glorified babysitter as I had to keep up with the children most of the day and watch over them.

Of the children, the ten-year-old twin boys Melon and Telon were the worst, instigators of all mischief but both brilliant and able learners if they would but stay still for an hour. The seven-year-old girl Tabby was the most gifted in music as well as sweet, only guilty of unknowingly copying her brothers' behavior.

Lord Lipton was a well-meaning father and let his children do anything they pleased while he worked in his laboratory. He certainly loved them, but he hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with children, preferring to observe them fondly from a distance. His slightly dilapidated estate was extensive, with plenty of places for the children to play. The four servants doted on them, spoiling them to a frightening degree.

It was Telon that gave me the most grief. He was not the least interested in reading or arithmetic. As soon as he learned that I knew swordsmanship he demanded I teach it to him. I was momentarily reminded of Sangrel.

I went to his father about it, who was hesitant to approve.

"I worry for the boy," he explained, tugging nervously at his lace cuffs. "He just seems so much more…enthusiastic than the others. What to do with this energy, Master Link! Well, it could be interesting, right? Ah, provided the boy is not hurt, of course. Do see that he is not hurt, Link. Maybe some archery too. Ah, splendid, how fascinating!"

I decided to start with archery first, to develop strength and concentration. Telon seemed happy with this arrangement, getting through his book lessons so he could practice his skill. I taught Melon as well, seeing the lessons as a good way to keep them out of trouble. Melon quickly picked up whatever I taught him, but became bored soon after, preferring to toy with the little inventions he was always building. Telon only seemed keen on shooting moving objects; thankfully his aim was poor. I spent much time telling them stories of my knight friends in Hyrule and their actions and deeds that I admired the most. Melon did not seem interested most of the time, but Telon drank in my every word.

"Are you a knight, Link?" he asked as we fished in the stream near the mansion. Melon and Tabby were foiling our efforts by splashing about upstream, but I did not mind.

I told him I was a knight of the Cedar Wood. To my surprise Telon regarded me with awe and seriousness.

"That place is haunted! Is your master a ghost?"

I shook my head, telling him about the Lady Petalwood and her son who was just his age, both quite alive. It had been months since I last had her on my mind. I wondered if she expected routine visits from her knights.

Telon seemed to have some amount of respect for me after that. He did not disappear into the thicket as often as his siblings did, or neglect his studies. He wanted to come along with me when I patrolled the estate, looking for anything that was amiss. I even brought him on my first return visit to the Cedar Wood.

My liege lady was glad to see me after three months absence and I almost felt at home amongst the tall trees. We sat in the Great Hall where we easily heard the laughter of Resin and Telon as they ran about outside.

"He looks like he could be your younger brother," Lady Petalwood commented, handing me a glass of hot tisane. "You are much too young to be taking on an apprentice."

"I just turned sixteen," I insisted. I realized she was not being serious when she laughed lightly.

We spoke for some minutes before I mentioned Sangrel. Lady Petalwood turned her beautiful face, shrugging her shoulders uncharacteristically.

"My brother was not very happy with you after you left," she said carefully. "I thought he might go after you, but he went from this place before he was well, like a retreating storm.

"What a terrible price to pay," she said, her eyes darker than tree hollows. "He was hurt, but we all do what we feel me must, don't we?"

Old guilt rose up in me like the memory of a bad dream. I had somewhat expected such a reaction from my friend, but I felt a need to speak to him. I wanted to discuss what had transpired months ago, but there was no way I could do it unless I went back to Hyrule. The lady watched my expressions, seeing she had made me uncomfortable and skillfully redirected the conversation. I allowed my mind to be led away from unpleasant thoughts, drinking deep from my tea glass.

During another visit late in winter, as Lady Petalwood walked amongst some of her favorite trees, she bid me join her and I did so, remaining a step behind her. The snow fell lightly on her black velvet cloak and she gave of a scent of anise and earth and pine sap, a mixture of wildness.

"Sangrel visited my court a few days ago," she said and then paused, watching me. I did not fail to show some response and as I came to know her I wondered what she wanted of me. Sometimes she could be almost cruel.

"What did you tell him about me?" I could not help but ask.

"He simply wished to know how you were," she said smiling. "How strange, to travel so far for so little."

* * *

The seasons went by, I taught the twins swordsmanship and Tabby music as well as other subjects. I found that the children were not so bad after a while, willingly inviting me to play in their games or participate in adventures. Eventually I buried myself in the Lipton estate until I felt like I was a part of them, making it my home. I was almost as happy as I had been with my friends in Hyrule.

*

(a/n: please review! Reviews are nice to get, you know.)


	15. A Visitor in the Library

**Chapter Three: A Visitor in the Library**

This is how it was in that year of my life. I was glad to be out of the twisted affairs of Hyrule. All I heard from that place was that the princess had come of age that winter and was crowned Queen of Hyrule. That is, until one night when I awoke to Zelda's voice calling me.

I sat up, looking feverishly about for the source. How could she be here? I could see little, so I put on my robe and opened my door. My room was technically a closet attached to the library with a tiny window to let in light and air. Lord Lipton did not understand why, with so many grand and empty rooms in his house, I would choose this hole in the wall. I told him that it was quiet and close to what I loved and I did not need a grand room for merely sleeping in.

The library was still and empty, save for the young woman standing by the window. I knew she was not truly there; Zelda had enough magic to project herself wherever she wished within limits.

"Your Highness," I said, nodding to her. I felt a faint bitterness rise up, threatening to latch itself to me like it had a year ago.

"Link," she said. "I have searched many days for you."

"I was unaware I was needed," I responded coolly. I sat down and pulled a book toward me, wondering if I would be able to go back to sleep after this.

"Please," said the queen in a tone that caught at my heart like a fishing hook. "I am here to ask for your help. Will you listen?" By the way she asked I could not help but make a guess.

"Is it Sangrel?" I asked, fearing her response. "What has happened?"

Zelda did not move from her spot, perhaps fearing if she did, her magic would be broken.

"He is gone," she nearly whispered. "I've no idea where he is, but I have a letter from his sister, saying he was at her residence just briefly, almost half a month ago."

I stood, making my way between the chairs and tables toward her. I saw her more clearly now. She had grown out of her awkward looks and was quite beautiful, mature, and wise, but still I saw the familiar uncertainty in her eyes, a result of her inability to fully wield the Triforce of Wisdom. She also looked like she had not slept in days.

"Tell me everything," I said quietly, bracing myself where I stood.

"Sangrel told me of your discovery, so I owe you an explanation first.

"It was my doing," Zelda said. "I was young, eager to find my Hero. I sensed a piece of the Triforce within Sangrel when he was at the academy, yet I was too unpracticed to notice that it was not that of Courage. From that moment on, Sangrel has suffered because of me.

"It is still kept secret, only a few of my trusted councilors know. It was thought best for the people if they continued to believe that they now had a Hero. As we were not sure if we would ever find you, Sangrel seemed the best solution. He was a warrior with skills who could fight and protect Hyrule."

"So," I said, "he does have the Triforce of Power."

Zelda nodded. I had my suspicions, but now my heart dropped for what seemed like forever, pulling my body down with it. The Triforce of Power? What was referred to in the books as the tool of Evil?

"Did you deem that it was best that I did not know as well?"

The Hylian queen stiffened, as if preparing herself for an attack. "Link, please understand, I thought it better that you were not aware, at least until we got to know you. I don't know if I made the right decision, I hardly ever do it seems."

Not knowing what to say I let the matter rest.

"So when he was appointed Hero, and drew the Master Sword, what happened?"

Zelda put her head in her hands. "I am not sure. As soon as Sangrel touched it…Well, the sword is imbued with magic, powerful, ancient and unpredictable magic. It knows its master, which had always been the Bearer of Courage…you, Link. It is also used as a seal, to temper the Triforce of Power when needed, because that strength often leads to corruption. There are many bonds between the three pieces, most of which have yet to be discovered. We depend on each other if one is out of balance.

"When Sangrel attempted to remove the sword as I bid him, we were both drawn to the Sacred Realm, where the Sages stood before us. They said Sangrel was not the chosen one. No, quite the opposite. I had made a dreadful mistake." Zelda seemed lost in thought for a few moments.

"Princess," I said out of habit, forgetting she was queen now. I willed my voice not to shake, "please continue, I know you haven't much time." I wanted to sit down again, for fear I would fall down, but I was momentarily paralyzed.

"While we stood there in the Realm, the Sages decided amongst themselves what they should do. The Triforce of Power had not been seen for three hundred years. It was known to be the most dangerous piece and there it was before them, in this one boy. If they destroyed Sangrel, the piece would only reappear somewhere beyond their knowledge, so they put a seal upon Sangrel, using the Master Sword and some of the power of your own strength, to reduce the power of the Triforce piece to a fraction. My councilors and I decided to go ahead and name him the Hero, to prevent panic or doubt of my rule. It would keep Sangrel here, where we could watch him and make sure it was safe…It was also the least I could do for him."

Zelda's words slowly filled in the gaps that I come across in the past. I understood now how I had survived as host to the poe. It could not overcome the Triforce of Courage. Two years before I had met Sangrel, when the headaches had gotten so much worse those few days, it was because my strength was taken to help create Sangrel's seal. The words Sangrel's father had said, "you will be destroyed by power if you stay...you will destroy all of us," had been accurate. If he had remained an aspiring prince, the Tiforce of Power may have driven him to eliminate the brothers that stood before the throne. I had seen a small sample of what the piece could do sealed, the memory of Sangrel's dangerous rage still clear in my mind; I did not doubt its full power.

"What have you come to me for?" I asked, seeing Zelda's power was waning. The edges of her image were going out of focus.

She exhaled, trying to calm herself. "A month ago, he left Hyrule with all haste, not telling me where he would go. He was acting strange lately and I fear he may be in danger. He has been lost this past year without his closest friend, Link. I think he liked having you near so he could draw on your courage, to continue being the Hero. Please help me find him."

I stared at her blurry form, feeling my heart grow cold. I realized I didn't want to be dragged into all this again.

"I'm sorry, your Highness. We are no longer connected as we once were, and I don't see what is wrong with Sangrel taking a break for a while. I will not interrupt my life here to do your bidding." I couldn't believe my own bitter words once they left my mouth. I was relieved I could not see Zelda's face. Her image stepped forward half-heartedly before vanishing into nothing.

I sighed, realizing I had tensed my body for the whole conversation. I began picking up the stacks of books, knowing that organizing them would calm me and still my shaking hands. I had not counted on the regret being so heavy on my heart.

*

(a/n: a thank you to NH3, for pointing out my error)


	16. Path of the Coward

**Chapter Four: Path of the Coward**

The next few days were an increasing misery for me. I could not get Zelda's words out of my mind.

_We depend on each other if one is out of balance._

If there was a chance that Sangrel was in trouble, it was critical that I give my help as well. Zelda could only do so much on her own; she had already done so much, I realized. My heart softened when I remembered my friends. After the dinner when we heard the wolfos, when I overheard them talking, they said they had searched for me. And when Sangrel had finally found me—saved me—he and Zelda had drawn me close to them when they certainly could have pushed me away to protect the secret. Then I would have never known…never found out…

Three nights later I was in the library and reorganizing the books again. The twins and Tabby enjoyed arranging the books in their own nonsensical way quite frequently. I certainly wasn't paid to do this, yet I enjoyed it.

As I crawled under a table to retrieve the tenth volume of the _Complete Works of Tempo_, my knee fell on a hidden tack in the carpet. I yelled loudly, hitting my head on the table. Pulling out the offensive tack, I sat there for a moment, my thumb over the wound. The last time I had been injured had been about a year ago when my arm was broken. Since then I had gone out of my way to make sure I was not hurt like that again. I had gotten so comfortable on Lord Lipton's estate, which I was always reluctant to leave.

An ugly truth was brought to the surface: I was too afraid to leave this place. Here I had hoped the earth would cover my feet and that very job was halfway done due to a growing cowardice. No wonder my heart felt so weary, parched in its safe prison. Tears came unbidden as I realized what I truly was. An ice-cold dread settled in my body as I wondered if I had lost the Triforce of Courage. Surely it could not stay with a coward who abandoned his friends…I had sold out those friends…for what? Under the premise of wanting a solo adventure, I had gotten hurt like an idiot and holed myself up in a comfortable estate, miserable without them, really.

I knew could stay no longer. I waited for a moment, sitting under the library table in the dark, rubbing my eyes and taking deep breaths.

I left the books and made my way to the north wing where the lord's chambers were. I found his doors to still be open, the thin man sitting before his fire with a tattered book in his hands.

I came before him and bowed slightly.

"Link, my boy," he said, looking up at me and smiling. I briefly allowed myself to wonder if he thought of me as a son before dashing the thought from my brain.

"My lord," I said. "I come to tell you that I must leave you and your family which has become dear to me. Important matters call me back to my homeland."

Lord Lipton's face fell. "Ah, well we were doing just fine here all together, weren't we? That is sad to hear. Won't you have a sip of brandy with me?"

I sat down, feeling that I might ease the older man's discomfort at such a sudden change. I could tell that he was disturbed, for he did not like change.

"Ah, the children will be sad too. Are you leaving soon? Don't neglect to say goodbye to them as well. I'm sure they will miss their teacher."

I told him I was leaving tomorrow as I nursed my tiny glass of brandy, its sweetness lingering on my tongue.

* * *

"Won't you ever come back?" Tabby asked, grabbing a fistful of my burgundy cloak. I regretted telling them after she had eaten a piece of sticky candy, but I patted her fondly on the head nevertheless.

"Maybe, but I can't make the promise that I will."

"Why not?"

"Because that would put me in danger of telling a lie."

Tabby's eyes became all seriousness as she heard this.

"Then don't lie," she said somberly. "But I still hope you come back."

I smiled and said goodbye to Melon as well. He rubbed his nose and shook my hand weakly, failing to hide his watery eyes. I reminded him to take care of his little sister and he nodded, sniffing.

Telon was the hardest to say goodbye to. He glared at me the whole time, the brief few minutes I set aside after breakfast to say my farewells.

"Goodbye, Telon," I said, holding out my hand. He ignored it and stormed out of the room, leaving his apologetic father in his wake.

"Very excitable, that one," he mumbled.

With nothing more to do, I left the mansion of Lord Lipton, already uneasy about returning to Hyrule.

Kuma did not seem pleased to be leaving the gentle green sloping hills he had called home for a year. He has a bit out of shape, as was I, despite our daily exercise.

"You'll be happy to see Hyrule, boy," I assured him as we headed southwest. I decided to go through Cyril instead of going south the way I had come, which would have brought me through the Cedar Wood. I had no time to properly pay my respects there. I still had the copper ring on my finger, the metal giving my skin a green tinge.

The Lipton estate was not far from the border of Cyril. We made it there well into the first day of travelling. The season of rain had long passed, the fields where Sangrel and I had been many times forced to take shelter was now dry and the grass bleached pale yellow by the summer sun. We still took shelter under a tree, only this time it was to evade the intense heat. After a day of this I decided it would be better to travel at night, so a few hours after noon I settled under my shelter and took a nap, letting Kuma graze freely nearby.

That very night as I set out I picked up the sounds of footsteps. I groaned inwardly as I turned Kuma and cantered back to the source. I just spotted a small dark shape as it quickly darted behind a boulder.

"Telon!" I roared in frustration, halting my horse not far away. The boy crept out from his hasty hiding place. He was exhausted and dirty, a too-long traveling cloak trailing after him and his short sword strapped to his back. Instead of anger I was filled with instant pity, but I was careful to show my discontent only.

"Your father must be insane with worry right now," I said, dismounting and walking toward the child. Telon showed me his stubborn face, refusing to answer me.

"How clever of you," I grumbled. "I'm too far away to turn back now to return you. I'll just have to send a letter to your father when I can. How did you keep up with us?"

Telon sighed and leaned against the rock. I realized he had been running all day and night to catch up. I was impressed, noting that he must have used some of the tracking skills I taught him. He hungrily devoured what food and water I gave him before I climbed onto Kuma and pulled him up in front of me.

"You'll have to sleep as we go," I said to him. "Imagine, you could have been in your own warm bed at home instead of out here."

Telon smiled, easily drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Telon was a good travelling companion. He did what I asked, even though everything was new to him and as a lord's son, he was unused to menial labor. I cut his cloak to his size and whenever we rested Kuma I took some time to sharpen his swordsmanship skills.

At Dothan we were swallowed by the familiar morning crowd. Telon remained in the saddle as I led my horse through the throng. I found a post office and mailed a letter to his father. While I was there, I decided to find Aega and see what she knew about Sangrel. I sent an in-city message and ten minutes later the runner returned with Aega's invitation to her home.

Following the directions, Telon and I arrived at the older part of town. Quiet, elegant houses and old shady trees lines the narrow streets. Since Aega had married Sir Brana she now lived in one of the Oron Family houses.

We were admitted in by Aega herself, who dismissed her lingering servants. I noticed she was with child and far along at that. We shared a smile.

"I am sorry that Brana is not here," she said of her husband, walking us through a courtyard with a running fountain. "He is away on a long campaign. You would like him very much. However, I have received another visitor today that you might like to see."

We entered a sitting room with couches and chairs. Sheer muslin curtains hung over the wide lattice-covered windows and a large arrangement of slender purple flowers and ferns stood in a tall vase on the center table. I stared at the woman standing by the open window before falling to one knee and dropping my gaze.

"My queen," I said softly. My heart ached knowing that she was here, looking for Sangrel herself when I should have responded to her request immediately. If only I could melt into the floor…I stared at a tile, my face red, envious of its blameless existence.

Zelda was surprised to see me as well and turned away, her hand gripping the edge of the sill. Aega led Telon out and I was alone in the room with the queen of Hyrule.

I lifted my eyes and dared to look at her. She wore a dark blouse and split skirt, both dusty from travel. Her light tan cloak was draped over her arm and her strawberry blond hair was gathered into a messy plait. I had never seen her look so ordinary, so unadorned.

I didn't know what to say. I had hurt her terribly and I could do nothing but wait.

"Get up," Zelda said curtly. "I don't want anyone save Lady Aega know who I am."

I stood, feeling more awkward in her presence. She crossed the floor, anger on her face, her brown eyes unbearable to behold. Zelda's hand met my cheek hard and I stepped back, my eyes looking away, ashamed. She grabbed my collar and forced me to look at her.

"All of Hyrule needs Sangrel, Link. But he needed his friend more. _He needed you_!"

I absorbed her angry words; if she had wanted to hit me again I would not have stopped her. Yet I had not expected her to step toward me and set her head against my shoulder. I felt her shaking with emotion, perhaps even pent up tears. I stood very still, barely breathing and searching desperately for words that would not come.

"I love him, Link. I love him so much and I'm frightened for him. Please don't make me ask for your help again. Lend me your courage."

A sudden and brutal thought struck me. "How do you know it is I who wields it?" I cried. "I'm a coward! I've never been more afraid in my life!"

"Has this worried you for so long, Link?" Zelda asked with kindness, not pity. "Do you know how the pieces of Triforce come to their bearers?" I shook my head, my gaze on the ground. She took my hand, removing the glove so we could see the top of my hand. At her touch my skin tingled and the shadowy form of the familiar symbol appeared, with one of the three triangles glowing like bright gold.

"Wisdom is gained by hereditary means," explained Zelda. "The last one to have Wisdom before me was my grandmother, Queen Topaz. She died before I was born. It has been in our family for ages, guiding us. Power is different. It can be given to another, whether by force or freely. It disappears and reappears in unexpected places, only to be found again and taken. It seems to care not where it goes. It grants the bearer great powers and long life and the last person we know of to have it was a man named Ganondorf, although we do not know how it came to Sangrel. But Courage is different. It is the only piece that chooses for itself the one who will posses it. It will only stay with a person of great courage. Do you see Link? It does not give you courage. It marks you as the courageous one!"

My spirit lifted considerably at this. "Forgive me for abandoning you and Sangrel, two of the greatest of friends," I said. "I have regretted it for a long time."

Zelda smiled and nodded, her expression a balm. "So, Link of Appleton, will you help me find our friend?"

I swallowed, my mouth dry and my eyes stinging. "Yes, and you won't ever have to ask me again," I promised.

Zelda thanked me, a mischievous spark suddenly brightening her eyes.

"Link, it's your birthday today, isn't it?"

I had completely forgotten.

*


	17. Into the Snow Kingdom

**Chapter Five: Into the Snow Kingdom**

I contemplated the year that had passed since I last saw either Zelda or Sangrel and Aega returned at an appropriate time, having recruited Telon to help her with refreshments. She served us chilled lemonade and cool slices of melon, which relieved us in the heat of the day.

"Is there anything you have heard about your brother to help us find him?" I asked.

Aega paced before us, her sheer embroidered sleeves following her movements.

"He was here briefly a few weeks ago," she said slowly. "I think all he wanted to do was rest for a few days. I did not want to ask him any questions, hoping he would stay longer and speak to me freely."

"He said nothing?"

Aega stopped her movement, settling down on a chair across from us. She considered Telon and reached for a box, offering him some candied fruit. He took some and chewed on it placidly, sinking back tiredly in his chair. Aega left it for him and walked out of the room, motioning for us to follow.

"You should stay here for the night," she said to us, walking through the open doors to the gardens. Plants with thick glossy leaves surrounded us and the jasmine breathed its perfume into the air.

"Thank you, I said gratefully. "Telon is tired. He has never travelled far before yet he insists on coming with me."

"There is something I couldn't tell you in front of the little one," Aega said, plucking a leaf from a climbing vine next to Zelda. It smoldered into a wisp of red fire, startling me.

"My family is strong in magic. We all are able to wield it with ease. When he visited I saw my brother was injured so I treated his wounds. He tried to hide it from me, but he was so badly hurt he had lost his ability to use magic."

Zelda stared, struck with worry. "What does this mean?"

Aega looked up, her beautiful eyes filling with tears. "Someone or something injured him gravely before he came here. He's out there with a fraction of his power."

I watched as Aega withdrew the familiar lens of truth. "He left this here for safekeeping. You should take it, it may be of help."

I reached for it, wanting to keep it for Sangrel but wondering what use could I put it to when I had no ability. She laid the glass onto my palm and I felt its cold surface grow warm.

"Which way could he have gone?" Zelda asked, knowing Aega could hardly tell her. The Cryilian lady took the hand of the Hylian queen, a silent gesture of understanding.

My conversation with Sangrel's sister only increased my impulsion to start looking. I wanted to leave Telon with Aega, but he would have none of it the next morning. After our argument he kicked me in the shin and darted off to the stables.

To my embarrassment, Zelda had seen this and came to me.

"That child must not come with us, especially if you cannot control him."

"I'm responsible for him," I said. "I will talk to him."

The queen said nothing, adjusting her cloak before a servant brought her horse to her. It looked like an ordinary horse, a quiet black mare. I realized the trouble Zelda had gone to in removing any trace of royal appearance. Even her plain bow and quiver could be found in any house in Hyrule.

I walked to the stable where Kuma still was. The young boy was sitting on the animal's back, petting his mane.

"Telon," I said as directly as I could. "I cannot take you this time. It is much too dangerous for someone as inexperienced as you."

"I'll just follow you again," he insisted stubbornly.

"No, you won't," I countered gently. "Do you know why?"

Telon looked at me, his mouth set in rebellion.

"Lady Aega needs you here. Her husband is gone for now and with her child coming she needs extra help. Can you see that? You have been trained as a protector, who better than you to watch over her?"

I saw the boy's face soften and I knew what he was thinking. This would be his first mission, his very own. He saw that I needed him.

"Telon, as your friend, I promise, when you are older, we will go on a journey together, the two of us."

He looked at my eyes, marking my promise. Finally he relented, sliding off Kuma and helping me tack him up.

* * *

After saying goodbye to Aega and Telon I found Zelda outside, leaning against her horse. Her eyes were closed in concentration.

"I still can't sense him," she said wearily. "I am at the end of all the information I had on his whereabouts." I saw the same indecisiveness cloud her eyes. "If only I had some direction. A clue to where he may have went!"

A thought struck me. "I remember some time ago he mentioned he was having dreams. He said he was being chased."

"Yes," Zelda agreed. "He had been getting more of those recently. He couldn't sleep."

"What if he is following his dream, trying to figure it out? He might have even been forced if he fought someone and was injured."

Zelda rubbed her temples. "Yes, I think I see what you mean," she said, "The more he had them, the more specific they were. I believe he mentioned going west once. So, west from here is the Snow Kingdom. We will head that way then, I have a friend there who may help us."

* * *

After two days passed we were in the mountains lining the western border of Cyril and blistering wind welcomed us as we entered the Snow Kingdom. It was really a collection of small, scattered territories, with or without rulers. It could be said that the element of snow was king there, covering the mountainous region most of the year.

Zelda always rode ahead of me, her fur-lined cloak whipping about her and the mare. Whenever the rare moment came were the wind died down and it was quiet, the queen would ask me to play my flute.

It was difficult for us to find shelter the second night in the mountains. Just before sundown Zelda spied a shallow cave. Not ideal, but we could fit ourselves as well as the horses inside.

As I sat back against the wall listening to the wind, I sharpened my blade as well as Zelda's hunting knife, wondering when we might be using them.

Zelda had not spoken much to me on our journey, so when her voice broke through the howling wind I dropped my whetting stone in surprise.

"So you are a knight of the Cedar Wood," she began, eyeing my cloak pin with interest. I immediately felt a twinge of guilt. Had she planned on giving me a knighthood herself? I pushed the thought away and I wondered what Sangrel had told her.

"What duties do you have?" Zelda asked.

"I share the honor of guarding the trees," I explained. "There are those that wish to harvest what is not theirs, or travelers get lost and I guide them out. There are other jobs I do as well, whenever my lady needs me, but I did not spend much time in the Wood." I doubted if I would ever tell her the days I had spent in the deepest, most dangerous parts of the Cedar Wood searching for rare plants or conversing with the spirits of restless dead warriors. I glanced at Zelda as I spoke. She was leaning against the rock wall, looking very tired.

"We'll find him," I was suddenly compelled to say. She jerked her head up, looking surprised at me.

She gave me a small smile before looking away into the darkness outside. She was thinking of Sangrel, I knew. I wanted to be her strength for this trip and in hindsight I can say that I was in some cases, but not in the manner I expected.

*


	18. Lord of the Mountain

**Chapter Six: Lord of the Mountain**

To my delight we woke up to a snow covered scene the next morning. I kicked at the drifts and shook the heavy pine bows until they dumped snow on my head. I had always found snow to be exhilarating, although there was precious little of it during Hylian winters. Zelda smiled and led us further into the pass.

The snow became deeper the further in we went. The warm sun vanished behind a sheet of chilly dark clouds and even I no longer thought the snow was such fun, shivering in my saddle.

At midday we stopped to eat, taking shelter under the bows of a cluster of pine trees. I rearranged the scarf around my mouth and nose after we finished; the air was so cold it ripped at my lungs and left my throat raw.

We had only just mounted the horses again when we heard a choir of howls piercing the snow-filled air. A mass of hard muscle and white fur collided with me the next instant, knocking me off Kuma. As I struggled with my attacker on the ground I saw Zelda quickly put two arrows through the neck of another white wolfos before drawing her knife to stab a second in the shoulder. I realized very quickly she could take care of herself.

I pulled my own knife from my boot and struck the snarling beast that now bit viciously at my arm through the ribs. It let out a weak gargle before falling on top of me. I heaved it off and rushed to Kuma. A smaller wolfos had grabbed onto a dangling stirrup and was taunting the already terrified horse. Kuma kicked at it before I closed in on the growling wolfos and sliced its head off with my sword.

It was the last one apparently. Zelda walked her horse back up to us, her cloak splashed with blood. I worried some of it might be her own when she assured me none of it was, turning her attention to my gashed arm.

"Let me see," she said, taking my wrist and drawing up the sleeve. I began to feel the pain once I saw how bad it was. Zelda passed her hand over it, her fingers glowing with a light that reminded me of the ghosts in the Cedar Wood graveyard. When she was done the gaping bloody wounds had closed, leaving shiny pink marks where the teeth had once sunk in.

"Try not to get any more injures," she said smiling. "It takes up my own reserves to do this."

I thanked her and had just climbed back on Kuma when a great wolfos, larger than I had ever seen, darted out of the trees and crashed into us, vengeful cries issuing from its mouth. Kuma screamed and jumped sideways onto an icy slope, sliding down and scrambling to gain purchase with his flailing hooves. I let him have his head and threw my weight toward the hill, knowing it was up to him to find his balance.

The cruel beast threw himself at us again, teeth snapping briefly but deeply onto my shoulder and my horse tumbled into a roll on top of me. The snow cushioned us and somehow I was still clinging to the saddle when we were righted again. I felt a lump rise quickly in my throat as Kuma valiantly heaved himself up again. He was such a good, noble horse and his willingness was boundless. I directed him away from the bottom of the hill to an open space by a deep gushing river cradled by steep banks. The wolfos followed us, red gums and yellow teeth bared. I yanked my sword out, the pain in my shoulder ignored, the roaring water filling my ears.

He was massive and must have been the leader or king of all the white wolfos. As he shook the wet snow out of the thick fur around his neck I saw his raw power. He had not even begun to deal with us seriously; he was playing with his prey.

I spared a glance at the top of the hill, wondering if Zelda and her mare were safe. I slipped off Kuma's back, my legs shaking. I noticed scratches on his legs and belly; I could ask no more of him in this fight. I wished I had a shield as I walked toward the large wolfos, fear trickling into my limbs.

Between the two of us we feigned attacks for a moment, I was wary of getting close to the snapping teeth. The impatient monster snarled and closed in and I aimed an upward slice at his face. The wolfos lifted his head to avoid it and a following horizontal slash won me a fair nick in his neck. My opponent suddenly became very concerned with his hide and batted me away with a massive paw. My mail had protected me but my skin still felt the sting of the iron-hard claws.

I hardly had time to get up before it was upon me again. Desperately I ducked under another swiping leg, my sword over my shoulder and biting into flesh. As I spun away I saw with satisfaction a ribbon of red blood trickling down its side. My victory was short-lived as my enemy charged me, crying angrily, driving me to the edge of the steep bank. It caught in its jaws a mouthful of my burgundy cloak but I quickly slipped out of it. The cold air hit my bleeding wounds and I shivered as the blood on my tunic began to freeze.

The wolfos had paused, delighted at my weakness and watching me hungrily as I stumbled over the rocks. He suddenly turned his head, distracted as an arrow appeared in his flank. I felt some relief, knowing that at least Zelda was safe somewhere. The wolfos bit at the offensive dart, turning in a half circle away from me. I did not hesitate, thrusting my sword into his lung. The wolfos yelped in surprise and spasmed, launching its full frenzied weight on me, sending us into the river. I felt panic and pain, cold water and rocks and thrashing animal all around me before I knew no more.

*


	19. The Innkeeper

**Chapter Seven: The Innkeeper**

I thought I must be dead when I opened my eyes. It was dark and I had never felt worse in my entire life. My shoulder was painfully swollen and everywhere else hurt or ached to an unbearable degree.

After realizing that I still lived, I noticed at least I was not cold. Columns of steam told me that a hot spring was nearby, perhaps overflowing or melding with the cold river. Green herbs grew all around my head, sporting tiny white flowers. I attempted to pull myself out of the tepid water, digging among the loose pebbles and dirt until I was exhausted. I rested for a few minutes, water lapping over me before lifting my head a little to look around.

I had drifted into a ravine, craggy black rock rising high around me on either side, a wedge of night sky above. A large pile of white fur lay not far away on the same bank. I hoped it was dead.

Some rocks scraped together beyond my vision and my hand instantly went to my hip, finding no sword.

I waited for a moment but heard nothing else. As soon as I relaxed I felt how very drained I was. I lay there, struggling to summon strength that only ebbed away, leaving me dull and sleepy. My eyelids became like lead, nearly impossible to open once they had closed.

My mind drifted into a comfortable buzz and I thought of my old home, Appleton, and how much I wanted to go back right now and pick an apple off a tree at the peak of its ripeness. I could surely taste the crisp, juicy fruit in my mouth at that moment, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. I heard the noise again but I didn't care. I saw a white shape moving toward me and it occurred to me that maybe the wolfos wasn't dead. It was back on its feet and moving closer, preparing to finish me off as it hummed a pleasant tune, the sweet notes echoing off the walls of the cavern.

* * *

When I woke again I knew I wasn't dead. I was pleasantly warm and someone was holding a spoonful of hot fragrant soup under my nose. I moved toward it and drank some, reveling in its divine ingredients. It was simple, but very good: carrots, onions, potatoes, pumpkin and fish.

I was fed some more and with each spoonful I felt my strength returning. Eventually I opened my eyes, seeing a grand lighted stone fireplace before me, my wet clothes hanging from nails on the mantle. I noticed faded tapestries on the walls and a dusty chandelier on the ceiling. It looked like a dilapidated mansion of sorts.

I was clothed in a large, rough, but dry shirt, covered in a pile of quilts and propped up with pillows on the hearth rug. Sitting next to me was a very large, very hairy being. This creature bore some resemblance to a man, only he was four times as wide and three times as tall. At first I thought he was wearing a fur coat, but then I saw his thick swishing tail and knew it was his actual hair, snowy white with brindle markings around his dark face. He didn't appear menacing at all, even with the prominent tusks protruding from his lower lip.

"You wake up?" he asked genially, leaning down. "I am Yetik, yeti of mountain. This my inn. You customer number three this year."

I couldn't say anything to that.

The yeti ladled out some more nourishing soup from a copper kettle over the fire. "Is good soup, no? I get from second cousin Yeto of Snow Peak."

I recognized the name Snow Peak and was wondering how far away I was from it when Zelda came out from behind Yetik. She was overjoyed that I was awake and kissed me on the cheek, her eyes dancing with happiness. I reddened slightly and asked her how she got here.

"Yetik is the friend I was talking about," Zelda said, beaming at me and settling neatly on a dusty pillow. "You disappeared so fast with the wolfos down the river I could not keep up. Since Yetik lives near where we were attacked and he knows the area, I headed to his inn with the hope he would help me find you. It's a good thing he insisted on making soup first because he found you near the basil in his herb garden. Oh, how is your shoulder?"

I rotated it, feeling only a little sore. She had taken care of most of the bruises and cuts too. With her skillful care and Yetik's powerful soup, I was feeling much better than I had last night.

"I'm sorry we could not find your sword," murmured Zelda quietly.

I was telling her not to worry about it when I remembered Kuma, asking in a panicked voice about his condition.

"He is in better shape than you," Zelda assured me. "He did very well and is all settled down and eating plenty of green grass with my horse Mira in the cleft near the hot spring."

I smiled, relaxing and eating more of the soup that Yetik offered me. Zelda seemed to be waiting for me to finish. When I set down my bowl I prepared myself.

"Sangrel was here," she said softly.

I swallowed, somewhat relieved that we had another clue.

"Yetik told me he stayed here briefly before leaving. He could be anywhere."

"We'll keep going then," I said. "I'm almost all better and in a couple of days when we are rested we can head out again, maybe find a trace."

She nodded, but the worried look never left her face.

* * *

With the soup as my main staple I recovered quickly. Zelda helped Yetik tidy up the ruined mansion, feeling it was the least she could do. I wondered how she had become friends with him.

It was an odd sort of inn. It had several rooms, not counting the ones that had walls or ceiling missing. A plethora of mismatched items were stuffed into each one in an attempt to see to the needs of potential guests. In my room there were no less than three pitcher-and-basin sets, five moth-eaten quilts and a door-less cupboard containing chipped teacups and sugar bowls.

Yetik was kind and well-meaning as he tried to be what he considered a good innkeeper, but Zelda and I soon got very tired of soup.

After we had stayed there a few days I found one night I could not sleep. I had very quickly discovered that the pleasure of dreaming came with the consequence of nightmares and there did seem to be fragments of the shadow poe that had never left me, hiding in corners of my mind. It did not help that I was growing more worried that we would never find our missing friend.

I took a walk outside, not knowing what I searched for, navigating down the rock boulders that the mansion was built upon until I worked up a sweat on my skin despite the cold and lightly falling snow. As I leaned against the cold stone catching my breath, I saw an animal on the narrow path below me. I held my breath as I recognized it as a wolf. Nothing like its sinister impostor the wolfos, the dark gray animal filled me with reverence as I beheld it padding along over the snow.

It knew I was watching and paused in its tracks, looking up and meeting my gaze with golden eyes, clearly visible in the moonlight.

Perhaps those eyes, filled with something familiar, inspired a wild desperation in me, for the next thing I did was talk to it.

"He was here, a young man with a sword and green cloak...did you see him?" My voice sounded small, muted by the snow-covered surroundings and the heavy blackness that was night. "Please…which way did he go?"

The wolf stared at me, a long tongue darting out of its mouth to moisten an ebony nose, before turning at a right angle from the direction it was going and walking a few steps, stopping to look at me again. I hurried down from my perch, gathering small pebbles and stones. I placed what I collected in the prints of the wolf, forming a line that pointed towards the northwest.

"Thank you," I said. The dark gray beast turned and continued on its original track, quickly joining the shadows.

The first thing I did in the morning was show Zelda my work from last night. I remember feeling a little silly as she crouched to examine the line of rocks and paw prints, her gloved fingers tracing the marks.

"I know it sounds…well…" I muttered, scratching my head in embarrassment. "I just know…he has to be…he's there, I know it."

"It points to the Aerial's territory," she said, standing up. "We better head that way, then." She looked at me with complete seriousness and I silently savored her trust, keeping my baffled thoughts to myself.

* * *

We packed up our things to leave, although I was without a sword now. Zelda had retrieved my burgundy cloak as well as my knife, which was better than nothing. Kuma nickered at me as we walked down the mountain path from the little pasture by the hot spring where he and Zelda's mare had been staying.

The snow was not so bad, coming down sparingly on us as we left, after saying our goodbyes to Yetik.

We expected to be attacked again, but the rest of our journey was only punctuated by the inconveniences a few slight slips on ice or damp tinderboxes. I noticed we climbed higher each day, the air getting slightly thinner. Zelda thought it best to tell me ahead of time about the Aerials, one of the races that inhabited of the Snow Kingdom.

The Aerials were a humanoid race with feather-light bones and wings that carried them up above the clouds. Zelda had studied with the prince and princess there when she was younger and had remained in contact with them for years.

When we reached a certain point, Zelda told me we had to leave the horses. I was troubled by this, but higher up the mountain would prove unsuitable for our equine companions. We unsaddled them and turned them loose in a sloping pasture with heather and sweet clover peeking up from the snow, watered by a running stream. As I removed Kuma's bridle I heard a faint whinny from behind one of the hills. The big brown horse paused and lifted his head to let out a sonorous call. A red horse appeared in the distance and Kuma burst into a gallop on the spot, running to meet her.

"It's Epona," I exclaimed, squinting my eyes.

As Zelda released her mare I saw she was anxious.

"Don't worry," I assured her. "This means we're getting closer."

Zelda nodded, straightening her shoulders and returning to her regal posture for a brief moment.

We trekked up the narrow path, our hearts lingering with our trusted animal companions.

*


	20. A Shadow on the Wing

**Chapter Eight: A Shadow on the Wing**

The Snow Kingdom capital was a collection of roosts scattered throughout a mountain valley, inhabited by closely knit family clans. Zelda warned me that although there was a general unwavering loyalty to the royal family, fighting amongst the clans was common and it was better for a visitor not show favoritism to any one family.

Unless one had wings there was no convenient way to get to the roosts, although for diplomatic reasons a small number of wingless guests had access to the royal palace via footpaths.

The palace was skillfully built, carved over the years into the very mountain were columns and stairs of dark granite framed by tough red moss. A page dressed in silver embroidered livery greeted us at the door. He seemed surprised, but did not hesitate in admitting us. He was an adult, although he was a little shorter than me and slight of frame. His features were very sharp and bird-like, with large hazel eyes that never seemed to blink. A pair of tawny wings was folded at his back.

He led us through a series of empty rooms, all with big wide-open windows and doorways leading off into the nothing of the clouds. Unseen wind chimes toned softly in the constant wind.

We entered the main hall, a very tall and long room with perches all up and down the walls. It appeared to double as a throne room and assembly hall.

Three Aerials were perched some ways above us, quietly conversing. The page cleared his throat and they turned their gaze to us.

"Why, Zelda has come to visit!" called a voice. The three descended gracefully, their clawed feet clicking on the stone floor before us.

Two of them I imagined to be the brother and sister royals while the third, a gray-winged youth appeared to be a friend.

"Link," said Zelda, "These are my friends Princess Daphne and Prince Elian." They both had coal black wings and long black hair. Daphne embraced Zelda, briefly wrapping her wings around the other woman in a tender gesture. The prince smiled and bowed over her hand, kissing it. I noticed he hid a half-eaten hare behind his back.

"My dear Zelda," said Prince Elian, "This is our friend Evan, a scholar and sorcerer of sorts, or a know-it-all if you prefer." Evan pushed his glasses back up his long nose, indifferent.

"I was hoping to meet your mother and father as well," said Zelda. "I cannot help but remember their kindness toward me when I studied here."

The prince opened his mouth to say something but his sister cut him off. "Our parents are away, unfortunately. They decided to visit a sister roost. I will tell them of your remembrance."

We had a supper of grilled fish, honey seed cakes and thistle wine. I noticed how Elian doted on Zelda. He was enamored by her, thinking her the most fascinating being in the room. Zelda ignored him, getting to the subject of Sangrel as soon as she politely could.

"Oh, he was here all right," Evan said hotly. "Nearly broke my arm!"

Daphne shook her head, her thin lips curving into a frown. "We found him on one of the mountain paths and invited him to stay and dine with us —we get so few visitors— but he would have none of it. He was quite rude, insisting on continuing on his way. Evan noticed he did not seem well and tried to dissuade him…it did not go well."

Zelda hastily excused herself, darting down the hall. I made apologies and followed her at a slower pace, bringing a goblet full of cool water. I found her far down one of the halls, sitting on a bench carved from the wall, her head in her hands.

"I can't keep doing this, Link," she said quietly. "The farther I travel the farther he gets from my grasp! Is this impossible?"

I knelt before her and looked up into her eyes. I now saw tears for the first time since we started. I remembered how young she really was, only a year older than me yet queen of Hyrule, away from her throne and searching for the person she loved.

"Your Majesty…Zelda," I said firmly. "We are not going to give up. We keep going until we find him and if he doesn't want to come back with us, we'll drag him back." I gave her the water, hoping it would help a little.

Zelda smiled a little, nodding her head. "My friend," she said, "what strength and bravery you put in me. Of course you are right. We won't give up on Sangrel." We stayed there a moment while Zelda sipped the water and regained her composure.

After we returned our Aerial friends seemed keen on knowing more about Sangrel, even offering to help look for him tomorrow.

We made plans to search the mountainside for a clue or trace, only concluding when it was getting dark. We retired to our rooms, expecting to get started early in the morning.

As I lay on my bed I listened to a wind chime's random notes coming from across the cold room. My mind could not let go of the fact that Sangrel had left Epona behind after he met the Aerials. He had told me how he had chosen her amongst the herds that belonged to his brother Sal when she was only a little foal, training her and taking her everywhere he went. They had a strong bond and Epona wouldn't follow anyone else but him.

The longer I dwelt on the subject the more my stomach twisted in discomfort. This place did not feel right. I took the lens of truth out and held it between my fingers. It inspired some comfort as I gazed through the honey-colored glass but I tensed as I thought I saw some movement at the darker end of the room.

A whisper of material confirmed my suspicions. I rolled out of the bed, landing on the icy floor with my knife already in my hand, just as a winged shadow landed where I once was. It hissed, dark wings folding as it turned on me, curved silver blade shining in the dark. The shadow struck out at me and I barely managed to deflect the blade, stepping back to put distance between myself and the intruder.

The attacker charged forward, not using weight, but elegant skill to find an opening in my defense. I felt some memory of annoyance at being rudely interrupted as I was trying to sleep and threw it into my attack. I could barely see but I bounded forward, swiping and jabbing aggressively. The shadow seemed surprised, the attacks becoming unsure. The edge of my knife connected with the faltering sword and I knew with enough pressure, a turn of my wrist…The attacker fumbled and was disarmed, the sword crashing noisily to the stone floor.

"Drop your weapon," a voice came from behind me. My heart despaired as I recognized the owner. I turned and saw Princess Daphne holding a crossbow, the deadly bolt aimed at my heart. I dropped my knife, feeling the point of the curved sword pressed to my back.

"You're much too vigilant," Prince Elian panted heavily, digging vengefully into my spine.

"This is a curious act of hospitality," I said, forced to step forward. Daphne's face remained unreadable. We were all startled by an angry cry I recognized as Zelda's. I turned to the door. A tendril of light magic bounced off the wall outside my room, followed by angry curses from Evan. I had heard Zelda was gifted in magic, but I was about to see her true terrible potential.

"Zelda!" Daphne shouted, "We have your friend!" There was a pause in the din, followed by a crash. There was silence again before we heard footsteps approach.

"You didn't hurt her, did you Evan?" came Elian's worried voice from behind me. Daphne rolled her eyes.

I could have cried in relief when I saw Zelda, not Evan, walk through the door. She was still fully dressed and her face was livid. The loose stands of hair about her face were standing straight on end, overall a frightening sight to behold. She hardly stood still for me to take it all in, however, as she suddenly turned on the winged prince. I knew the warning look in her eyes; I dove out of the way as a crackling whip of light came forth from her hand and struck Elian in the chest with such force he was thrown back. I heard the crack of bone breaking as he fell against the wall and lay still. I hurried to the open door to guard it, Elian's sword in hand.

The Aerial princess let out a sob and dropping her weapon, ran toward her brother, only to have a threatening tendril of light cleave the air between them.

"Explain yourself!" Zelda commanded, magic still snapping about her outstretched fingers.

Daphne cowered, stepping back against the wall. "Forgive us, please," she begged.

"That is not what I asked," said Zelda menacingly. "Tell me why you have attacked those whom you call friends!"

Daphne flinched and fell to a sitting position, her eyes straying to her downed brother before returning quickly to Zelda.

"Please understand," she whimpered. "Our father and mother have been taken away. We must do what he says or—"

"Who are you talking about?"

Daphne swallowed, shaking her head.

"I cannot help you if you don't speak," said Zelda, softening her voice a degree.

The princess finally acquiesced, looking at the floor as she spoke.

"Little of what we told you was true," she began. "The man you search for did resist coming here, but eventually we managed to bring him to the palace, where he rested for a few days. He had told us he was being pursued but we thought nothing of it until the Breath of a dragon came—" Zelda interrupted her.

"Breath of a dragon? You mean a dragon's servant created by magic?"

Daphne nodded, continuing. "She brazenly attacked your friend in the midst of us. I could tell they had fought before, each familiar with the other's moves. The Breath taunted Sangrel and although he fought well, he was still weak and the evil foe eventually defeated him. Before she disappeared with him, the Breath took our parents as well and told us to bring anyone who came after Sangrel to her master Bezalel, or—or they would be killed."

Daphne finished her story with a shuddering sigh, looking up apologetically. Her brother stirred, moaning from the pain of his broken wing. She went to him and Zelda did not stop her this time. The queen's shoulders drooped significantly and she looked at me. Her dark eyes were apprehensive, strained and tired, but at the same time ready. She still had fight left in her and she was determined to go on. I was filled with respect for her, glad that she could call me her friend.

She was exhausted from her efforts, shaking and holding her hands together as soon as the siblings left us.

"So that is how he lost his magic," she said, pacing the room. "Somewhere between Hyrule and Dothan he fought her." Suddenly she remembered her earlier rage. "I _trusted_ them! The companions of my childhood, ready to turn us over to an unknown enemy!"

"They wanted to save their parents, Zelda," I said, knowing it wouldn't help much. She scowled and I saw her mind working. Knowing I needed to divert her, I asked her to explain the dragon's Breath.

"Some people like Sangrel and I are born with the ability to use magic," she began, "but it takes years to learn how to tap into it and wield it in useful ways. For dragons it just comes naturally, like breathing, as they say. They are so effortlessly powerful that they can create servants completely under their control, as easy as that. The servants are very useful, able to perform tasks and deliver messages all without the dragon so much as lifting a finger."

"So did Sangrel go to this dragon by choice or was he forced?"

"From what you have told me about his dreams, I would say the later. He is one of the greatest swordsmen alive, but with the seal the sages put on him, he is not as strong as he could be." Zelda was pensive now and I knew she had switched from a reactive mind to a thoughtful one and she seemed to calm down. I asked her nothing more that night.

Zelda retreated to her room. I paced in my own, trying to wear away the traces of adrenaline still coursing within me. I waited until my heart settled and I focused on breathing for a moment. I knew we were no longer in danger, but my senses would not settle.

I stepped out into the hallway, the chill wind whispering through the lattice shutters. Zelda's door was not far from mine, scorch marks visible on the surrounding walls. I wrapped myself in my cloak and with Elian's sword in my hand hidden in the folds, I laid down before the doorway of the queen of Hyrule. If anyone tried to enter, I would know.

*


	21. The Lair in the Rock

**Chapter Nine: The Lair in the Rock**

The next morning we would have rather just left quickly, but Daphne, Elian and even Evan did everything in their power to let us know how grieved they were from their actions. They had prepared provisions for us and gifts as well. Elian, his broken wing held by a slender splint, presented me with a sword of very fine make, quite comparable to my old Ordonian sword, but lighter. The princess gave Zelda a quiver full of arrows fletched with her own feathers.

When we said farewell I did not think badly of them. I knew how precious family was. I wondered what I would have done if I had been given a chance to save Keith.

I had heard little of dragons, even from books. Zelda explained that they lived by the ocean usually, and even owned land that they sometimes leased out to tenants or kept for their own hunting. They were rarely seen and were just as likely as people to have ill tempers or generous natures.

Bezalel lived about four days away from the palace if we pushed our horses. I was happy to see Kuma doing well, whinnying as I approached. We saddled up our mounts and as I climbed up I wished I could bring Epona, but she kept her distance.

By the second day the snow was only a memory to us. The rough trail was green and overgrown from disuse and the horses delighted in taking up mouthfuls of grass to snack on as we moved.

I was excited to be nearing the ocean, another marvel of nature that I had only heard of in books. On the fourth day we smelt it before we saw it, a great body of water laying steely blue under a sky filled with heavy clouds. There were hardly any waves and a cold wind attacked us. It seemed a miserable place. We got off the horses to give them a break and led them across the hard-packed sand and tangled seaweed.

As the day wore on I felt my spirits being sapped by our very surroundings. No life met my eyes, not even a seagull. Also, we had no direction at this point. Zelda only knew to head south down the sand, so we walked, hoping something would come to us. By midday we had spotted a series of white pillars in the distance and continued toward them.

The first one was perhaps as high as Yetik and a young woman stood motionless atop it. She had glittering green eyes, the blackest hair I had ever seen and red-lacquered earrings hanging from her small ears. She had on a curious garment, consisting of a white gown topped by a delicate silver chainmail shirt and crimson belt. In her grasp was a long, thin sword. I knew instantly who she was. She said not a word but turned and melted into the sky on the spot, reappearing on the ground before us and beckoning for us to follow.

Zelda and I exchanged a knowing glance and followed the girl.

"Your master was expecting us," I said to her. She did not respond, only dragging the tip of her weapon playfully in the gray sand.

I did not have to wait to reach the dragon's home. Before long we stood in front of a great stone building set into the side of a cliff, its massive stone pillars set so close to the water that the high tide would lap at its feet, leaving a crust of sea life. We walked in, leaving the horses, the great stone blocks of the façade melding skillfully into the solid carved stone of the cliff. We went in deeper, great torches set in the walls along our path, blazing like great bonfires.

I hoped Zelda knew how to speak to dragons, for I felt like I was crawling dangerously deeper into the gullet of one.

Bezalel's main room was alight from the efforts of two great fires in clay bowls balanced on wrought iron stands. Shadows danced softly and unceasingly upon the ceiling. The girl, the Breath of the dragon, came and sat down between the claws of a great silver dragon, its scales reflecting every color in the room like polished armor.

The large being turned his head when we saw us, green eyes large as dinner plates blinking slowly. He was a creature of stunning appearance save for a very old scar that twisted around his lip and nose.

"How long has it been when last a queen paid me a visit," the silver dragon said slowly. He dipped his head in a bow, though I was unsure if it was in respect or mockery.

"Forgive me, but we won't be talking of pleasant things today." There was not one note of fear in Zelda's voice.

"Well," breathed the dragon, "if this will be unpleasant, let me change into something more comfortable." In an instant the bulk of his body was blown away like dried autumn leaves, leaving the dragon in the form of an aged Hylian man with long silver hair. The scar still disfigured his face despite his transformation.

"See," he drawled, "I can be accommodating."

"So you can," said Zelda, approaching him.

By habit I put my hand on the hilt of my sword under my cloak. The dragon's eyes suddenly seized upon me and he shouted, "If your young companion is so eager to fight, _he _can play outside!" I felt something push me backwards with such speed and violence I fell over and was surprised to find myself outside on the wet sand. The Breath was there as well, moving toward me menacingly with her sword out. I only had time to draw my own and block before she was at my throat with a strength impossible for someone her size. From the onset she controlled the fight. We crossed blades again and again and each time I was more convinced that she was keeping back insurmountable ability, merely toying with me. Her long skirt did nothing to hamper that ability either. I did not wonder that Sangrel had been hurt so badly after their first fight and beaten the second.

After what seemed like hours, I retreated a few steps, seeking release but the Breath would not let me go. I was dripping with sweat and struggling to summon energy to defend myself. I had but to look at my surroundings to see that running was no good, there was only the long stretch of sand wedged between the rocky cliffs and whispering water.

She performed a downward stroke and I was driven to my knees. As I struggled to get to my feet under her incessant blows I was yanked forward, one moment on the beach, the next sprawling on the stone floor, panting, before Bezalel again. Zelda looked furious but I could do little more than pull myself into a sitting position, dazed.

"Much better," said the dragon. "See how much calmer he is?" The Breath had reappeared as well, standing motionless against one of the walls.

"I do not appreciate you whisking my friends off," Zelda responded, gritting her teeth. "If you are done then I would like to discuss the release of the Aerial king and queen. You can see we are here, as per your request."

"Done," said the dragon easily. "They left for home as soon as you stepped into my territory."

"Also, I would like to see Sangrel Aurea, whom I understand is in your care."

Bezalel grinned at the careful words of the queen. "Yes, he has been under my care for some time. Say hello, Sangrel."

A curl of black smoke dropped into the center of the room and a young man clad in light silver armor emerged from it.

I saw that Sangrel had changed greatly, mostly in his eyes, which looked like his spirit had left him. He was thinner and his posture was altered; he was slightly hunched forward and looked uncomfortable.

"Sangrel," called Zelda softly, taking a step toward him.

Sangrel seemed to not hear or ignored her. As I rose from the floor I felt sick. I had never known my heart to be so heavy. I had expected for him to be kept by prison bars or chains, but it seemed he would stay away by his own free will. He was not the same man. I wondered why I was here at all.

Zelda must have thought the same, for she came up to Sangrel and touched his face, as if making sure it was real. It seemed to awaken him and he covered her hand with his own, leaning into her touch.

"We've come," she said. "You can stop running now."

"I know," he said, his voice rough. As they beheld each other, many thoughts and emotions passed through that small distance between them, impossible to describe.

"Come back with us," Zelda begged.

He stared at her, his dark eyes pleading and desperate. "It is impossible, my queen."

This only made Zelda more determined. "You swore to me, you gave me your word you would protect Hyrule! You cannot do that here, so why is it impossible?"

The young warrior looked at her helplessly, tears rolling down from his eyes. The dragon laughed and I realized instantly what had happened.

"How do you like my new servant? He was your precious treasure, this Hero? I thought there would be more to him, but at least he is a good fighter." He pointed to Sangrel, who flinched before turning to Bezalel and falling to one knee, gasping in pain.

"No!" cried Zelda. "Let him go!" The same magic she had used on Prince Elian gathered into her hand and she directed it like a darting snake at the dragon. Bezalel flicked it away with his long fingers.

"How could you!" the queen cried, taking her bow in her hand. "You gave him those nightmares and drove him here to enslave him!"

Bezalel stared at her placidly, a smirk appearing on his distorted face.

"Sangrel," he said softly, his cruel eyes gleaming at Zelda and me. "Kill them."

*


	22. Red Rises

**Chapter Ten: Red Rises **

By the time Sangrel's arm unsheathed the Master Sword I was there beside Zelda to meet him with my Aerial sword. The weapon known as Evil's Bane screamed in discordance, its edges sparking in protest. Sangrel shuddered, pulling away for a moment before attacking again. We moved across the room, trading blows.

"Link," Sangrel said as our swords met and held briefly, "take Zelda and go, please!"

"You really think she'd let me do that?" I retorted with a smile. I was already exhausted from my latest fight with the Breath, the muscles in my arms jumping and twitching, causing my blade to clatter against Sangrel's.

"You've no idea how much I'm holding back," Sangrel said, his eyes burning, twisted with conflict.

"I have some idea," I returned, gasping for air. "I know I've never been able to beat you."

I saw out of the corner of my eye Zelda was barely holding her own against Bezalel. She was firing arrows bursting with light while dodging the fingers of white fire that Bezalel casually lashed at her. This was all a game to him, held for his amusement, and we were the playthings he could dispose of. I wanted to help her, and so did Sangrel.

The attacks my friend gave me never seemed to let up. He drove me backward, his strikes coming in from all directions, searching for an opening. I fell, tasting defeat and blood from my cut lip, every part of my body aching and pleading for respite. I struggled to merely catch my breath.

"Get up," said Sangrel, his voice shaking. "_Get up_, he's ordered me to _kill _you! I can't hold his influence at bay much longer."

"I-I can't," I gasped. "Impossible…" I really couldn't see myself stopping him at that point. It was laughable, I was far too weak. I always was.

"All you have to do is get to your feet, and I will help you," the Hero said, a hint of pleading in his voice. I looked at him, sweat dripping into my eyes and stinging them. He struggled to keep his distance, waiting and offering me a grim smile. A scream came from Zelda who was still fighting Bezalel and Sangrel's face paled while the blood drained from my heart.

Somehow I got on my feet again, trusting him, frightened for Zelda, sword in hand. When our blades locked Sangrel pressed my own weapon back so it was caught between my shoulder and the protesting Master Sword, biting into my skin. Freeing one hand he caught my throat and slammed me against the wall. I gaped at my friend, shocked and unable to move. Then, Sangrel's bare hand felt unnaturally hot, the nearly unbearable warmth seeping into me like wine filling a glass. As the strength returned to my limbs, I realized he was giving power from his Triforce to me. After a moment, his arm convulsed, slackening his grip on my neck.

We broke away and Sangrel lunged straight for me again. I now parried his attacks with ease and pushed him back with a series of powerful blows. I saw Sangrel smile a little, as if relieved. I wondered if he knew we would come. Had he spent the last couple of weeks forming countless plans to aid us?

"Now," he said, straining to go against the dragon's hold on him, fighting invisible strings, "Link, disarm me if you can and take the Master Sword."

Now that I had my strength again I did what he asked, our blades sliding against one another in a trembling arc before the Master Sword was flung away. Sangrel seemed to go for it, but with a great effort held back and crashed onto one knee as I dove after the ancient blade, taking it up.

Something like a shock, but not painful, ran up my arm and down my back. It surprised me, for nothing had happened when I had picked it up at the Northern Palace. The sensation made me grip the hilt of the Master Sword all the more tightly. The agonizing sound it admitted stopped and the surface of the blade was quiet as the surface of pond. There was great power and harmony in the weapon as well and I felt my body naturally drawing it in.

By now Bezalel had noticed me, leaving the exhausted Zelda and returning to his normal dragon shape, his iron-hard claws scratching the floor in his scramble to get to us.

"Quickly," said Sangrel, crouched on the ground. "Strike me!"

I stared at him, unable to believe my ears.

"You won't hurt me," Sangrel said between strangled cries. He fisted his hand, looking ill. "It's the only way and I need you to break the seal, _now_!"

I knew I had no choice, and as I darted toward him I was sure the dragon was breathing down my neck. I aimed a downward slash upon my friend and Bezalel roared in frustration. Instead of hitting metal and flesh and bone, it felt like the sword cut through a row of strings that had been stretched out taut in the space where Sangrel should have been. A great red light blinded me and I was knocked aside. I tumbled across the floor, coming to a stop at Zelda's feet. I looked at her face as she helped me up, it was white as paper and burn marks grazed her neck and arms and clothes.

The Master Sword still in my grip, I turned back to where Sangrel had been, discovering a great rust-red wolf-beast in his stead, about two-thirds the size of the aged dragon, locked in vicious battle with Bezalel. The two snarled and snapped at each other, scraping the walls with their massive bodies. In a flash of scales the dragon went in for Sangrel's neck. The wolf pulled away with the dragon still hanging on to his fur, falling against one of the fire braziers, sending a flood of embers skittering across the floor. Zelda and I hastened to move out of the way.

"Did you know he could do that?" I asked her.

Zelda shook her head, gasping as Bezalel bore down on Sangrel's back, drawing blood. My friend twisted out from under him, biting at his scaly legs.

"I have heard that the previous holder of the Triforce of Power, Ganondorf, was a sorcerer as well as a shape shifter. It looks like Sangrel can do the same. How ironic that he chose that shape…" Before I could ask her what she meant Bezalel screamed in rage.

"So this is what you were hiding from me, miserable whelp," the dragon snarled, a searing ire edging his voice. "I wondered why you were so disappointing! Nothing the old one told me made sense with you...Your predecessor managed to outsmart me and give me this scar on my face… At least I can have the revenge I promised him…Very well, Hero, I am done playing with you. If I cannot control you I'll see that you die painfully, as well as your friends!"

His taunt only seemed to fuel Sangrel. Despite his size he moved with great speed, a crimson blur against the silver dragon. They struggled for a few moments, each trying to gain control of the fight. A knot formed in my stomach when I noticed my friend had a hard time getting his teeth any purchase on the dragon's smooth scales. The more time he spent futilely attempting to land a blow, the more the dragon turned the attack around and drew blood. Bezalel forced him to the ground and tore mercilessly at Sangrel's side, fur and flesh clinging to his cruel talons.

I knew I had to help somehow. I quickly formed a plan and told it Zelda.

"Do you think you have enough for one more light arrow?" I asked.

She nodded. "Just be careful," she gasped, notching a gleaming arrow.

I headed for the two beasts, keeping out of Bezalel's line of vision. When she had a clear shot Zelda loosed her dart, hitting the dragon in the face. Bezalel roared as the missile of light magic sizzled in his eyes and pulled his head away in pain. As Sangrel scrambled to his feet I closed in, swinging the Master Sword and easily cutting the tendons of one of Bezalel's front legs. He snapped blindly at me, lifting his bleeding leg. I moved away just as quickly and before the dragon could recover my friend redirected his attention with a growl.

Lifting himself onto his hindquarters, Sangrel landed hard on Bezalel's back with his front paws, pinning the injured dragon down. His jaws snapping open, he sunk his long white teeth into the silver scales between head and shoulders and with a frenzied shake of his head, Sangrel broke the dragon's neck. I noticed the Breath move away from the wall in a panic, disappearing instantly.

I thought it finished, when the red wolf let out a desperate whine, leaving the body of the old dragon and stepping toward us. His fur was dark with glistening blood. He shrank in size as he came, his animal cry of pain morphing into that of a man. Assuming the shape of the Hero, he collapsed to his knees. He was wearing his old familiar garments again, tattered and worn now, the illusion of the dragon ending with his death.

Zelda rushed to him, putting at arm around the injured man and pressing a hand glowing faintly with healing magic to his pouring wounds. As I came closer I saw how bad they were. Some of them were older injuries that had never fully healed. I wanted nothing more than to help somehow, but as I knelt beside them I could do nothing but watch, just like I had with my brother. Sangrel was quiet, leaning against Zelda as she worked over him.

After a moment he seemed to regain himself and gently pushed the queen's hand away. I heard him murmur something and I leaned in, seeing his eyes fixed on me.

"Link," he said weakly. "Remember when we were hunting in the woods and followed that buck for hours?"

"Of course," I said, my throat dry. "He was either too smart or we could not bring ourselves to shoot him."

Sangrel smiled wanly, taking my hand and gripping it.

"I wish that day would have gone on forever. It was perfect, with the warm sun and cool shadows sliding off our backs as we rode. You played your flute as well. Never have I more keenly felt how good it is to have a friend, Link. Thank you. Thank you for coming for me."

I nodded, mute with agony.

Zelda could do very little for him now, being so spent herself, and Sangrel would not allow it. Magic could only do so much to stave off a death so near. Sangrel looked up at her. She bent her ear to his lips and as he whispered something to her, her face grew tender and tears glittered in her eyes. Whatever was said, Zelda has never told me and I have never asked.

The lair in the rock was silent as a tomb save for the softly crackling flames in the remaining clay bowl, our only light. With his hands still surprisingly warm, Sangrel gripped my arm in one and entwined his fingers with Zelda's in the other. For too short a time we remained that way, three friends together.

Sangrel faded quickly from us after that. Because of our bond we were with him and knew of his last moment after his final breath, as his body lay in Zelda's arms, where his spirit wavered briefly between the worlds and was gone.

*

(a/n: Thank you for reading, reviews welcome and appreciated. There are two more chapters left. As kind of a treat for you for getting this far, I have added a link to my profile page that will take you to my deviantART page. I have put a concept design for Link there. I hope to have one for Sangrel and one for Zelda put up soon too.)

*


	23. A Gift of Cedar

**Chapter Eleven: A Gift of Cedar**

I immediately knew it was a dream, but I surrendered to it nevertheless. It was a pleasant sort of dream, reliving a memory from nearly two years ago.

The three of us were back in our favorite place in Hyrule, in the ruined stone amphitheater in the great Field surrounding Castle Town. Sangrel was putting me to shame at combat again, his sword flashing in the autumnal sun, snaking through my defenses to tap parts of my body I neglected to defend. Zelda sat by our richly packed picnic basket, concentrating on fletching a bundle of arrows she had brought with her. Occasionally she would look up and laugh at our antics, crimson leaves settling on her unbound, windswept hair.

Sangrel smiled good-naturedly from his perch on the stone step, standing in readiness, muscles coiled, black eyes flashing, alive with his spirit. Today he would not be so hard on me; I was improving at great speed as it was, or so I thought.

The Hero easily flicked away my attacks and pushed against me with a flurry of his own, the sound of clanging metal reverberating in the theater and my ears. I lost my footing on the edge of the white marble where theater-goers would have sat hundred of years ago and would have fallen onto a pile of crumbled rock if Sangrel hadn't grabbed my collar and flung me to the side where I landed on my face on the soft grass stage.

I barely had time to recover before he promptly laid the tip of his sword against the nape of my neck.

"Well, Zelda," he said to our fair companion. "This is the fourth time he's died today. How shall we punish him?"

I knew what was coming but he was too fast for me. He settled into a sitting position on my back and no matter how I struggled I could not get up again.

"It is too bad he is dead," Zelda said, rising and picking up the basket. "There are too many prize Appleton apples to eat by ourselves." She sat neatly beside us, her yellow skirts spread in a circle about her.

I grumbled into the ground, but they paid me no heed. Zelda took one of the apples, golden and with the distinct striped blush and began to cut it into slices right in front of me. They were indeed the finest of apples grown in my old hometown and as Zelda ate it, occasionally popping a piece into Sangrel's mouth, I could smell its unmatched fragrance.

After they finished the first and started on a second I could stand it no more. I thrashed with all my energy and I managed to punch my annoying friend in the calf. Sangrel burst into laughter, rolling off me and settling on a warm green patch of clover with his head in Zelda's lap, mouth open for more apple pieces. His laugh was always a rare surprise and as Zelda handed me my own fruit I couldn't help but smirk, biting into the crisp tart flesh.

Soon, tired of eating, Sangrel began to nap, breathing deeply as the afternoon sun began to lengthen the shadows around us. I saw Zelda lightly stroke his wild sable curls, quiet and pensive. I looked away, the distant mountains a faded lavender. I had no cause to wonder what lay beyond them. There were other mountains to replace them now, and mysterious oceans beyond those. Who would I explore them with now, now that my friend was gone?

With a heavy heart I remembered and looked back at Zelda. Her soft eyes were wet and the sight of them brought tears to my own. The dream was broken; I was instantly and woefully awake, rolled up in my cloak on the ground where we had tried to settle for the night, on the mossy cliff above the lair. Not far away Zelda was awake too and at the same time we both reached out. Our hands joined and grasped tightly, as if we were about to be torn apart and I knew she had dreamed the same dream as me.

* * *

The next morning we began to take the remains of Sangrel Aurea back to Dothan. Zelda put a seal on his body to keep it as it was while we brought him. Prince Elian and Princess Daphne had sent a group of knights to assist us too late, but the twelve winged warriors escorted us all the way back to Cyril, carrying the body of the Hero on their shoulders. Passing though the Snow Kingdom, Epona joined us, the small horse following the litter bearing his body, but never coming close enough for us to touch her.

In Dothan, a pyre was built for him in a clearing surrounded by soft grassy hills using the cedar tree Sangrel and I had gotten for his father a year ago. King Domus had meant it for his own funeral, but seeing the body of his youngest son he had been filled with grief, tearing his clothes and hair and ordering his palace into mourning. The cedar would be cut and prepared for his last born child. The queen and his brothers and sisters were equally grieved. The bereaved screams of Sangrel's mother had filled the air and crumbled my already broken heart.

Zelda and I visited Aega the same day we arrived, telling her the news ourselves.

I wept as she wept, the lady's fresh grief mingling with mine and Zelda's and I felt sick to my spirit. I could not believe he was gone, I could not stand that I had brought him back in this manner to his loving sister.

We stayed as guests in Aega's house at her insistence. Our tears would help to relieve us in the days to come, the three days of mourning given for a Cyrilian prince, in which we fasted and remembered him.

* * *

Aega did not come to the ceremony for it was close to her time. Zelda and I stood together on a short hill, our thin black cloaks moving softly in the wind as we watched the fire consume the stack of carefully arranged cedar where our friend lay. I fingered the lens of truth that I had carried with me during our search, slowly turning it in my hand.

"What happens to the Triforce of Power now?" I asked her quietly, my eyes staring ahead. We knew it was gone again, seemingly snatched away when our friend, its unwilling host, died.

"I cannot say," said Zelda, wiping her tears. "We still don't know how it came to Sangrel. It may be given to someone else, destroyed, lost, found. We will know if it appears again."

An unexpected surge of anger overwhelmed me for a moment and I blinked back bitter tears of frustration.

"Link," said Zelda hesitantly, taking my hand. I held it as tightly as I dared.

"I don't get it," I choked out. "There are only more unanswered questions, and now that Sangrel is gone we know _less _than we did before! What was Bezalel talking about? He-he seemed to think that Sangrel was the one with the Triforce of Courage...Who is the old one?"

"I don't know Link," my friend said, trying to soothe me. "I want to find out too."

We said no more as we watched the pyre burn, the multitude of people who had gathered to pay their respects doing the same. The dark fragrant smoke rose into the evening sky, which slowly turned from soft orange to deep violet.

I noticed a red horse standing on one of the hills surrounding us, her beautiful profile showing her briefly standing at attention. She stood there but a moment before turning and smoothly descending the hill, running swiftly to the west and disappearing from sight. I would never see her again.

*

(a/n: One chapter remains. If you have any burning questions send me a comment so I can make sure I have addressed everything. Character design for Sangrel has been added to my deviantART page. See the link in my profile page. Thanks for reading.)


	24. The Hero Remains

**Chapter Twelve: The Hero Remains**

*

_Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art . . . It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival__.__ -C. S. Lewis_

*

Aega's child was born the next morning, a healthy boy.

When she saw us that evening I was relieved to see her in fair spirits as well, in her white sitting room, a single calla lily on the table. As she held the infant for us to see she told me his name.

"I have decided on Aurea, after Sangrel," She said solemnly, gazing with a bittersweet expression down at the baby.

I told her I was very glad that Sangrel had a legacy now. I took out the lens of truth, letting it dangle playfully over Aurea. He seemed to focus on it briefly, watching the amber glass spin above him.

"He should have it," I said to Aega. There was no third son now, but I saw Aurea as Sangrel's heir, and always would. She smiled and nodded, taking it carefully into her hand.

That night, as I was preparing to leave with Zelda the next day I knew Telon would seek me out. He would be traveling back to Denos with Sir Brana when he returned from his campaign in a few days, back to his father's estate. I did not have to wait long. Before the stars had fully come out he appeared at my window, playing with his short sword.

"Don't worry," I assured him, searching the small guest room for anything I might have missed, "I haven't forgotten my promise to you. Besides, when I visit my lady in the meantime I will be close enough to visit you all in Denos."

"That will be good," said Telon, swinging his legs back and forth on the sill. He was pensive for some time, one might say longer than usual for him. "So the prince was the friend you were looking for?"

"Yes," I managed to say without betraying the rising ache in my throat. I wondered what he thought of me after witnessing my open grief for the past few days. He had been quiet. My back was turned to him and I was surprised to feel his arms suddenly wrapped tightly around my waist in a fierce embrace.

"It's okay, you still have me."

His words brought me more comfort than I could have hoped to receive just then. I touched his head in thanks and he released me, darting out from the room.

* * *

Zelda's aunt and Sir Urbanus had been appointed guardians of the realm during Zelda's absence. They had kept Hyrule in good order, we found, when we returned. Zelda resumed her duties immediately. Three days after we returned she called me to her for a private audience in the very room where we had first met.

I hurried to the castle, the sunshine casting my hooded face in heavy shadow. I was hoping I would not be stopped. For the last few days I had been continually approached on the streets by complete strangers. They knew I was the friend of the Hero and the people of Hyrule could do nothing but speak good of him to me, telling me stories of how he had been of help to them, even in the smallest of matters. This would continue even years later and I would quietly revel in the memories of others, for it gave my friend life again.

Just outside the door I nodded silently to Aquila and Tristan who were standing guard. They were both wearing black sashes in remembrance of the Hero.

As I knelt before her in my burgundy cloak I had a difficult time placing the royal person sitting on the throne as my traveling companion with the wispy, flyaway hair and muddy clothes. She was once again Queen Zelda of Hyrule, dressed in a dark gown, a beautiful, collected woman of great intelligence and grace although she could not hide from me the grief that still troubled her eyes.

"I called you to talk about the position of Hero, Link," she said. She paused and I understood what she wanted to say.

"I won't take it," I said gently but firmly. "Hyrule loved Sangrel, Zelda, and he loved Hyrule and us. No one shows greater love than when he lays down his life for his friends. He was truly every bit the Hero and I will not take a drop of honor from his name." It would only lead to exposing him as a fraud, destroying his memory as well as putting into question Zelda's reputation as sovereign.

Zelda smiled, looking a little relieved. "Yes, I thought you would say that. Still, it felt right to offer." I nodded my appreciation and the young queen visibly relaxed, stepping away from her throne and sitting on the steps leading up to it. I rose and sat down next to her, she was just a woman named Zelda now.

"I am happy he was beloved here," she continued, sighing and laying her head on my shoulder. "What will I do without him? He was...well...I know we never told you about our relationship..."

"I knew," I said blushing. "The day we left for Cyril...It was an accident. Sangrel took so long I went looking for him..." Zelda didn't seem upset, she didn't even lift her head, so I went on. "I understand, I think. As a princess you didn't have much to yourself, you still don't. But what you and Sangrel had was personal...private. It didn't need a royal proclamation and it wasn't an official duty. You both had sanctuary in each other; holding secrets that you couldn't-or weren't ready-tell anyone else."

Zelda nodded, twisting the fabric on my shoulder.

"We wanted to get married..."

"Zelda, you are still very young. You don't know what will come to you in the future. Don't forget that Sangrel made you happy these past few years. He would want you to go on and be content...even if it is without him."

Zelda smiled, her eyes shining. "See, you have some wisdom too. Don't go too far from me, Link," she said. "What do you plan on doing now?"

I glanced down at my hands and was surprised how quickly I had clenched my fingers. _I want to find the Triforce of Power_, I almost said. Instead I shrugged, putting my elbows on my knees and leaning on my palms. "I'll take care of Hyrule in Sangrel's stead. I will be around unless I'm attending Lady Petalwood in the Cedar Wood."

"I suppose I can't convince you to accept a knighthood of Hyrule?"

I shook my head, but pleased at the offer nonetheless. "Thank you, but I feel I should keep what I have." I knew I had been bonded to the Cedar Wood, but I did not mention that to my friend. "My allegiance there is set, and the memory is important to me because I became something else over there, Zelda. I grew up, I guess."

We exchanged a knowing glance. For the both of us, so much maturing had happened indeed, and the price had been high. Hyrule still mourned for its fallen Hero, an amazing young man who was barely twenty when he died.

We sat there in silence for some time. The row of windows along the wall was open to a private courtyard and we heard birds singing.

Something that I had been forced to set aside came to my mind.

"What did you mean about Sangrel's wolf form being ironic?" I asked.

Zelda lifted her head, turning her gaze out the window. "Three hundred years ago, the first Hero, the Chosen Hero, spent some time as an enchanted wolf when Hyrule fell under darkness. Ever since, the Heroes were associated with the image of the noble wolf, but it is mostly forgotten lore. I wonder if it was merely a coincidence, or was it a sign that I had not been completely wrong in choosing him as Hero?"

* * *

An hour later I walked into the inner chamber of the Temple of Time where the pedestal for the Master Sword rested. Stepping forward with the sacred blade laid out in my hands I paused for a moment, reveling in the peace of the quiet room illuminated by a single leaded glass window. This is where it had begun with Sangrel, Zelda's decision that had brought us together for a brief time of invaluable and in a way, lasting friendship. I would not forget those years.

I sighed deeply, my heart heavy and my mind still tracing the memories. I felt the absence of my friend so keenly, as if a hole had been ripped into the sky. Sangrel had pulled me out of a dark place and taught me so much. But he had gone down a road where I could not follow; I was meant to continue on my own path for now.

"Farewell, friend," I murmured, lifting the Master Sword above my head and driving it home to its resting place. There was a slight feeling of loss as I pulled my fingers away from the hilt, but also a sense of preservation. The weapon had felt so spent, serving for years as a seal-keeper and used by hands it did not consider belonging to its master. Here it could rest and be restored, waiting for the next Hero.

Outside the Temple, Kuma stood waiting for me, chopping at the grass lawn. He raised his head and nickered to me. As I led him through the market the sound of the activity that had once mesmerized my senses bypassed me completely. Had it really been three years since I first came this way from Kakariko?

Beyond the city gates I swung up onto the big horse's back.

"Where shall we go, Kuma?" I asked him, rubbing his shoulder. "The apples are not ready, but maybe we should check up on Appleton?"

We headed out at a rhythmic walk and I pulled my flute from the saddle bag. The beginnings of a meandering song came easily to me as soon as I put it to my mouth. As we traversed the open field, the sun came down gently upon us, the blue dragonflies hovered up from the whispering grass and the notes from my flute lifted easily into the sky.

*

**THE END**

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(a/n: Thank you for reading. Character design for Zelda has been added to the DA account.)


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